


In the Machine

by Actually_Crowley



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Brainwashing, F/M, M/M, Not Beta Read, Panic Attacks, Psychological Drama, Slow Burn, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2018-12-19 20:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 104,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11905497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actually_Crowley/pseuds/Actually_Crowley
Summary: When someone takes a swing at Dedsec's reputation at Josh's expense, the team must take on the highest form of government they've faced since the FBI to clear their- and his- name.  But it seems that their enemies will stop at nothing to take them down this time.(Current status: *slow sigh of defeat* Hiatus)





	1. One Fine Day

**Author's Note:**

> This doesn't exist in the same continuity as my last fic, but it's something I've been noodling with for a month. I'm borrowing a good portion of this plot from a show I love, and I plan on this having quite a few chapters. Stick around for a long ride, guys.
> 
> This fic also comes with a Playlist now!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/actuallycrowley/playlist/43kOY3ZOufgLzY3haBP6ye
> 
> Songs are changed out frequently with some steady ones. I may make it collaborative if anyone wants to add songs that you think fit the story. Let me know in the comments if you would like me to!

That Monday morning started with an alarm and a mundane feel-good tune on some Christian radio station playing from the corner of the room.

 

The room itself was filled with a couple dozen unconscious party goers, hundreds of empty alcohol bottles, and who knew how many articles of loose clothing.  Its population was almost ninety percent Dedsec, and its ranks included those of Marcus, Wrench, and Sitara.  Ray was potentially somewhere, but as Marcus’ groggy mind began catching up with the world, he realised he really didn’t want to be the one to find out where he’d wound up.  That hadn’t fared well for him the last time.

 

He sat straight up from the floor where he’d landed at some point in the night and stared off at the far wall.  He could feel the onset on the inevitable hangover already, and he groaned and brought his hands to his face.  “Fuck…”  He looked around.

 

“I am never drinking again…”  Sitara wandered out of a bathroom, hunched over but looking otherwise pristine.

 

Marcus gave a laugh, but cut it short when it made him feel ill.  “Yeah, how many times have you said _that_ in your life?”  Marcus gripped his head again and flailed a hand around to find something to prop himself to stand.  “How the fuck is your makeup still on?”

 

“Because I know how to wake up before everybody else and fix it.”  She beamed, although it was a weathered smile.

 

Marcus grinned at her.  “So basically, you’re telling me that it is now my lot in life to see you without any makeup?”

 

Sitara arched a brow at him.  “If you’re thinking of lobbing me into the pool, this shit is waterproof, and I _will_ drag your ass in with me.”  Her eyes trailed down Marcus’ form, and she snorted.  “Is that Wrench’s vest?”

 

Marcus glanced down and pulled the article of clothing away from himself to get a better look.  Sure enough, he was in a spiked vest, and his own shirt was missing. “So it is.”

 

Sitara rolled her eyes.  “Let’s go find him.  He’s probably missing it.”

 

They split up and carefully danced over sleeping partiers, checking under hoods for any of them to be Wrench.  Marcus got to the sliding glass door, apologising as he nearly tripped over a rousing man draped in tinsel.  Being that it was August, Marcus idly wondered where the tinsel had come from.  He slid the door open and walked out into the pool deck.  People were stretched over lawn chairs and in the yard— One girl was successfully sleeping through a sprinkler watering her along with the grass.  Marcus chuckled and shook his head.  He roamed around the bend in the porch to where it led to the pool, and he grinned as he found his missing shirt.

 

There was a large, inflatable island in the middle of the pool, and on it was Wrench sleeping peacefully, curled around an oversized teddy bear, drifting away without a care in the world—

 

Or a single piece of his own clothing.

 

Marcus’ shirt was heavy on Wrench’s thin body, but that was just about the only oversized thing he was wearing.  He was in a pair of somebody’s yoga shorts and fishnet stockings.  He wore no shoes, but on one of his legs was a familiar sock with skulls pulled up to his knee over the fishnets.  It seemed as if Wrench had gone around the party trading clothing with everyone.  The only piece of Wrench still there was his mask.

 

Marcus couldn’t stop himself from cracking up no matter how sick he felt.  Sitara eventually wandered outside, almost tripping over the same festive man on the floor.  Marcus turned to her.  “Yo Sitara.  You missing a sock?”

 

Sitara blinked at him and looked down, staring at her blank leg.  She then looked out to where Marcus was focused and threw a hand over her mouth.  “Oh my god.”

 

“I know, right?”  Marcus rubbed his hands together.  “Is it out of bounds to get a photo?”

 

“Absolutely the fuck not.”

 

“Fantastic.”  Marcus phone was up and taking the shot in seconds.  “Hello new phone background.”

 

They neared the pool, and Sitara picked up a beach ball, chucking it at the snoozing hacker.  “Hey Wrench!”

 

Wrench flinched as he was struck, glancing over his shoulder, the mask calibrating to his squint at the bright sun of the day.  “Mmph…”  He buried his face back in the bear.  “…Mmno.  Too early.”

 

“Doesn’t matter man, you’ve got a scavenger hunt to do.”  Marcus found a pool noodle and reached it toward the island, poking Wrench in the partially exposed leg.  “Also I don’t want you to drown.”

 

Wrench groaned again and lifted his head, looking around more and understanding where he was.  “Oh.  Shit.”

 

Marcus held the noodle out to him.  “Come on, let’s see if we can get you out dry.”  Wrench took the noodle and let Marcus drag him closer to the pool’s edge.  Once he was there, he planted his feet on the edge, and Marcus and Sitara each took a hand and hefted him upward.

 

Once Wrench was stood on his feet, he held onto his friends for a moment as his head caught up with him.  “Fuck, who turned the planet sideways?”

 

Marcus snickered.  “Some asshole named Cuervo.”

 

“And his sidekicks, Daniels and Morgan,” Sitara added, patting his shoulder.

 

Wrench groaned.  “Man, fuck those guys.”  He waited until he stopped wobbling to let go of Marcus’ shockingly sturdy arm before turning back to the beige bear on the island.  “Don’t wait up for me, babe!  I’ll call you!”

 

“He’s lying, he’s not even into blondes!”  Sitara called out to the bear as well.

 

Wrench gasped.  “You take that back!”  He turned back to the pool as they walked away.  “Don’t believe a word she says, Princess Lancelot!  She’s just jealous!”  He turned away from the pool as he steadied himself on Marcus’ shoulder.  He paused at the feel of spikes beneath his hand and glanced at Marcus.  “Uh.  Is that mine?”

 

Marcus laughed.  “And that’s mine.”  He gestured to the shirt that Wrench was swimming in.

 

Wrench looked down at himself and at the shirt.  He slowly looked up and stopped his gaze at his vest decorating the broader chest before him.  “How drunk were we…?”

 

“Well you were drunk enough to trade shit with half the party and sleep on a pool float,” Marcus said.

 

Sitara grinned at him and tapped her foot against Wrench’s similarly dressed shin.  “Yeah Wrench, you didn’t sleep with everyone.  You’re in the clear.”

 

Wrench sighed in relief.  “Thank god, I am not in any rush to have to get tested again.”

 

Marcus tugged the vest off and held it out to him.  “What, you sleep around often?”

 

Wrench began the process of swimming out of Marcus’ shirt.  “Fuck no, have you seen how many tattoos I have?  Not all of these were done professional, and I am paranoid at my best.”  He handed Marcus his shirt and took his vest back.  Then he stared at it.  “Huh.  Wonder where the uh… the rest of me is?”

 

“Well I think I saw your pants on some girl on the couch earlier.”  Marcus thumbed at the living room.  “Want me to go see if she’ll give them back?”

 

“Tell her I’m keeping the fishnets.”

 

“Ha!  Done.”  Marcus wandered back inside.

 

Sitara nudged Wrench after Marcus was out of sight.  “Was that disappointment I saw in there?”  She asked, smirking at him.

 

Wrench had watched Marcus’ retreat with a sigh.  “I wanna climb that like a tree.”

 

Sitara cackled and pushed him towards the door.  “Next time aim for sober boning, you regret it way less in the morning.”

 

The friends made their way back inside, slowly locating all of Wrench’s clothes.  The oddest place they managed to find something was the discovery of Wrench’s boxers around two bottles of whiskey in the freezer.  It took Marcus ten minutes to explain that the whiskey did not belong to him, even if it had potentially gotten to third base with him, because he didn’t actually buy it.

 

Sitara had her sock returned, and she found their shoes buried in a massive pile of them by the door.  As soon as they were sure more people were awake to take care of people too hungover to move (and Wrench was dressed as himself again), they took their leave and headed straight for a tram.  None of them were driving today if they could help it.

 

The tram was sparsely populated this time of day.  Most people were already at work, and it was too early for the lunch rush.  Sitara sat on one side of the tram with her arms over the backs of the seats.  Wrench was across from her and leaned back against the seat, legs spread lazy and invading Marcus’ space with a shredded (and still fishnetted) knee.  Marcus knocked his leg into the knee, but eventually he just flung his leg over it to reclaim his space.  He gave a satisfied sigh.  “That was the greatest party I have ever been to.”

 

“How do you even know?”  Wrench complained.  “I don’t remember anything after the Yeager bombs.”

 

Marcus laughed.  “That’s how you know it’s good.”

 

Sitara waved her phone around.  “I don’t remember anything either, but according to my gallery, I have about forty minutes’ worth of video of _whatever_ we were doing last night.”

 

Marcus winced.  “Man, delete all of that, this was a Vegas style party.”

 

Wrench finally lifted his head.  “Hell no, what happens in Dedsec gets played on the wall with surround sound.”

 

“Hell no, I do not need you guys to air my dirty laundry like that, that shit ain’t fair.”  Marcus went to reach across the tram for Sitara’s phone.

 

She yanked it away.  “No way.  If Wrench’s dirty laundry can circulate an entire household, yours can make its way around us five.”

 

Marcus reached further, still too queasy to stand.  “No, Josh does not need to be subjected to that!”

 

In their morning fog, the hissing sound and bright light from outside almost escaped their attention. Wrench just happened to be looking in the right direction.  “What the fu-”

 

The world flipped upside-down in the next two seconds.  The building next to the tram’s route exploded outward and took several parked cars with it.  The tram derailed and creaked as it fell onto its side, sending all its passengers to the left wall.  Marcus’ head cracked against the glass, and his vision swam.  There was screaming everywhere, people on the tram panicking, but mostly unhurt.  He could hear Wrench shouting at something, but he couldn’t see what. His hearing cleared enough to make out Sitara’s name. He tried to force himself onto his elbows and dug one right into a pile of glass.  He groaned and dropped his head back down, unable to move.  He tried to focus.  He could see Wrench holding Sitara up, but he eventually saw her arms shifting around to hold onto him.  Her legs worked their way under her to bring her to stand, and Marcus took a breath; Sitara was okay.  Wrench was okay too.  That’s what mattered.

 

The world got blurry, but he felt himself shifting anyway.  With the changing lights, he realised he was being dragged out of the tram and onto the street.  He felt familiar hands on him, holding his head off of the ground, and another set holding his face, gently smacking him to try and rouse him.  His senses were returning.

 

“Marcus!  Come on M, don’t you fucking die on me, or I’m coming after you!”  Wrench patted his face again.  “P-Please get up, please…”

 

Marcus winced and scrunched his face up, moving his hands to Wrench’s.

 

Wrench gave a relieved gasp, dropping his head to his chest.  “Christ, Marcus don’t ever fucking do that…”

 

“I’m up, I’m fine.  I’m good…”  Marcus tried to lift his head.

 

Wrench put his hands behind his head to help, but he pulled one back and stared at it.  “…You’re bleeding too, man…  Fuck, _fuck_ …”

 

“I just hit the glass, I’m fine.”  He shooed Wrench away and forced himself to sit up.  “…What the fuck happened?”  As he looked around, his attention found Sitara, who was bleeding from some unseen wound on her head that was spilling down the side of her face.  She staring to their right with wide, horrified eyes.  “Shit, Sitara, you good?”

 

Sitara slowly shook her head, not able to answer verbally.  Her attention was locked on something else.  He followed her gaze.

 

The building beside them was a smoking shell.  There were bloodied and burned people still able to limp out of the front door, but with that amount of damage, he knew others wouldn’t be so lucky.  People were wheeled out on gurneys and wheelchairs, and Marcus realised with a sick roll of his stomach that the bombed building was a hospital.

 

There were screams.  Nurses and doctors, harmed or not, swarmed the patients they were able to get out of the building to access the damage.  The staff cried as they worked on people, casting agonised glances up at the building where surely friends and family were dead.  One doctor was slowly giving up on chest compressions of an injured little girl he had laid out on his coat.

 

Sitara reached up and grabbed a handful of Marcus’ shirt.  Wrench threw his hand out to find Marcus’ own.

 

Sirens wailed in the distance.

 

~


	2. Briefing

The door to HQ slid open, and Sitara marched through first.  “Stop babying me, I’m fine.”

 

Marcus tried to take hold of her arm to help her down the stairs.  “You have a concussion, Sitara, you need to rest.  You heard the paramedi-”

 

“I don’t give two shits what the paramedic says, I’m conscious, I’m walking, so I’m working and you can’t stop me.”  She yanked away.  “We have to find out who the fuck did this.”

 

There had been a noise when they entered that started low and grew louder as they descended.  As they rounded the corner, it became clear that the backdrop was Josh apologising, continuously.

 

Ray had his hands on Josh’s shoulders when they got in.  “‘Bout time you got back!  We got a problem.”

 

Marcus stepped forward first, his concern directing his feet.  “We know, we got caught in it.  Josh, hey, what’s wrong?”  He shifted himself between him and Ray, and Josh’s head shot up to regard him.  Marcus’ heart froze— Josh looked so lost.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Marcus, I fucked up, I fucked up, I-” He squeezed his eyes shut tried to silence himself.  “C-Can I hug you?”

 

Marcus dropped to one knee.  “Of course man, you ain’t even gotta ask, get in here.”

 

Josh flung himself forward and wrapped his arms around Marcus, burying his face in his shoulder.  Marcus caught him with ease and rubbed his back.

 

Ray had moved to stand behind the couch where he’d had Josh sit, arms crossed.  “That’s not the only problem, Marcus.”

 

Josh let go of Marcus and stood, moving to Wrench who was standing the closest. “Can I hug-”

 

Wrench’s arms came up before he could finish and enveloped Josh over his shoulders so he wouldn’t be resting on the spikes of his vest.  He rocked Josh gently from side to side as he turned to Ray.  “You mean there’s _more_ than a fucking bomb that went off at a damn hospital that we have to deal with?”

 

Josh let go of Wrench and moved to Sitara who didn’t even let him speak.  “Don’t ask, just come here.”  She wrapped herself around Josh and pressed his face into her shoulder.

 

Ray sighed and took the remote from the couch, flicking the monitors to a feed outside the hospital before the explosion.  Josh heard the sound from the feed and buried further in Sitara’s hold.  The footage was calm just before the explosion.  When everything went to hell on the screen it became clear that the view from the opposite building caught the source; It hadn’t been a bomb like they thought.

 

Marcus gaped at the footage.  “Was that a-… That was a fucking missile, what the f-”

 

Wrench’s fists clenched at his sides.  “Who the fuck fired that!?  That can be traced, can’t it?”

 

Ray sighed.  “It was a government missile.  Fired from the soil of the good ol’ US of A.”  He paused the footage and rewound the hit frame by frame until the missile was clearly in view.  The image that shown back at them was a missile decorated in the green and purple colours of Dedsec, their label poised just right for the camera to catch what it said without question.  Ray glared at it.  “Fired by _us_.”

 

Sitara grew still.  She clung to Josh tighter and glared at her stolen art with vicious resolve.  “No.”  She snarled.  “No, we didn’t do that!”

 

Wrench kicked a nearby table, shaking several objects off onto the floor.  “Fucking _shit!_ ”  Josh flinched in Sitara’s hold at the anger.

 

Ray nodded.  “Yeah, and we know that… But the rest of the world ain’t gonna be so easy to convince.”

 

Marcus pointed at the screens.  “But that’s all bullshit.  We got alibis, man, they got no proof any of us were even in those systems.”

 

Ray sighed and slowly turned his apologetic gaze to Josh.

 

The youngest hacker was trembling in Sitara’s hold and had begun his repetitive apologising again.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I fucked up, I fucked up, I let this happen, I-”

 

Sitara pulled him away by his head, keeping a hold of his face and rubbing her thumbs on his temples.  “Josh, honey, calm down.  Take a breath and tell us what happened, this wasn’t your fault.”

 

“Yes, it was-”

 

“No, it wasn’t.”  She pulled him forward and rested their foreheads together, closing her eyes.  “Just talk to me.  I’m listening, I will always listen to you.”

 

Josh was wordless for a while.  His eyes were closed, and his breathing was slowly evening out.  Sitara shifted her hands to cover his ears and block out the sound.  Josh opened his eyes and looked at her.  “I was f-following a lead…”  He said.

 

She nodded, keeping her eyes closed so she was just listening.  She never forced Josh into eye contact if she could help it.

 

Josh’s eyes closed again.  “I’d gotten a correspondence this morning that the military was using the same high-risk crime algorithm the police were using in order to excuse themselves for blindly bombing civilian areas overseas.”  Nobody spoke.  They knew saying anything or questioning him would make Josh feel worse about something he had no control over.  So they waited.  Josh continued, “You guys were still out at the party, and I didn’t want to ruin your fun, so I thought I could fix it myself…”

 

Marcus bit his lip.  “…Were they using it?”

 

“No.”  Josh inhaled sharply.  “It was a trap.  I should have seen it, I should have seen it coming, I’m sorry.”

 

Sitara pulled him back into her shoulder and glared at Ray.  “Tell me you didn’t make him feel guilty for this.”

 

“Nah, he’s been doing a bang up job o’ doing that himself, no matter what I tell him.”  Ray reached out and patted Josh’s shoulder.  “Take a break, kid.” He lifted the remote again and took the image off of the screen.  “He hacked into a military database to check and see how bad things were, but the hack got flagged.  I came back to Josh blocking all traces, but-”

 

“No.  _No._ ”  Josh ripped himself away from Sitara’s shoulder, and he looked angry.  “I did not get flagged.  I didn’t.  It wasn’t me.”  Sitara rubbed his shoulders, and he looked back down at the floor.  “I got in clean.  But somebody _else_ triggered that flag after I was already in.  Their system went into an offensive, I had to switch gears to block any means they had of tracking me.  Getting in undetected is one thing, but getting out clean when there are government computer specialists actively looking for you is different.  It’s different, it’s so-” He squeezed his eyes shut.  “If they traced me, they traced _us_.  They would trace me back to all of you, and I couldn’t let them.”  He dropped his head back to Sitara’s shoulder.  “B-But if I’d been paying attention, maybe I could have stopped the missile instead…”

 

Wrench crouched on the floor by Josh, gripping the arm of the couch as tight as he could.  “Hey, you didn’t fucking do this.  Somebody fucked with you, that is never your fault.  You stopped the trace, right?”

 

Josh barely nodded. “But now they have a log of a successful hack and a missile with our name literally on it that went rogue and blew up a lot of innocent people.”  Josh said, muffled by Sitara’s shirt.  “It doesn’t matter if they didn’t trace us, they’ll still do the math and blame us anyway, and I don’t have an alibi.”

 

Wrench went still.  He didn’t seem to have anything he could say to that.  Instead, he reached out and took Josh’s hand in both of his own.  He didn’t know what else to do.

 

Marcus glared at the wall.  He clenched his fists at his sides and stood up properly, pulling out his phone.  “Then we figure out who the fuck did this, and we break some kneecaps.”

 

Wrench stared at him.  “You taking some pages out my book there, M?”

 

“Your book’s got some good shit, Wrench.”

 

Sitara rubbed Josh’s back.  “He’s right.  We need to clear Dedsec of this before it goes too far.  Nobody steals my art- My _life-_ for some sick plot and gets away with it.”  She leaned her head against Josh’s.  “And nobody hurts my friends.  Ever.”

 

Wrench’s mask grew mischievous.  “I have longed for the day I get to watch you punch someone who isn’t me.”

 

“That time is nigh.”  Sitara said, a mocking ominous tone to her voice.

 

“I’m sorry…”  Josh was still apologising.

 

Marcus sighed and turned back to his distraught friend.  “Josh, this was not your mistake.”  He placed a comforting hand on Josh’s quivering shoulder and squeezed.  “Wanting to help people is never, ever a mistake, do you hear me?  Don’t be angry at yourself for wanting to help.  Be pissed at the people who fucking used you.  They want you to stop helping.”  Marcus watched Josh peer nervously over Sitara’s shoulder at him.  He looked uneasy, and a little bit sick—

 

Then his brows dipped in an anger as he leaned back.  His hand squeezed Wrench’s and he looked up at Marcus again.  “Then I’m gonna keep helping.”  He tensed enough for Sitara to know to let go and stood up.  Wrench let go of his hand, and everyone returned to giving Josh his personal space again.

 

Marcus beamed at him.  “Damn straight.  Do you think you can get in again?”

 

Josh nodded.  “I can.  I don’t know how much more they’ve prepared for though…  This could be harder than before.  I need to be better.”

 

Ray cleared his throat from behind the couch.  “Or you could ask for help.  I got some tips and tricks if you wanna go old school.”

 

Josh face gave way to the tiniest of smiles.  “I’d like that.”

 

“Right.  Go set us up, Padawan.”  Ray let Josh beeline for his corner of the hackerspace before turning back to the other three.  He gave them a pointed glare.  “You three need to rest.”

 

“What!?”  Marcus shouted.  Sitara looked appalled, and Wrench jumped to his feet.   They all looked ready to argue when Ray turned to them fully.

 

“Sit your asses down!  Now you kids just got blown the hell up.  You come home in bandages and with bruises and concussions,” He gestured to SItara then, “And expect to jump right the fuck back into work?  Naw.  Not on my damn watch.  Now I’m gonna go work with Josh to get some kinda hint on who’s messin’ with us, on who killed those people- on who almost killed _you_ \- and you’re gonna sit here and heal up.  Nobody goes into the field injured.”  He turned away from them.  “Get some ice.  Take some aspirin.  _Rest_.”  With that final word, he followed Josh to their work.

 

Sitara groaned and laid down on the small couch.  “Fan-fucking-tastic.  Now I get to feel useless for a few days.”

 

Marcus sighed and leaned on the arm of the couch.  “I mean, you _do_ have a concussion.”

 

Sitara glared at him.  “I would argue with you, but I have a fucking headache.”

 

Marcus gave her a half smile and walked over to a locker to find some medicine.

 

As he left his friends, he popped one headphone in (the other was busted from the bombing) and brought up his news app.  He had to do some reconnaissance, but he didn’t want to upset the others with the news.  They’d find out themselves later anyway.

 

“ _-edical Center was attacked this morning by the vigilante hacker group known as Dedsec.  Many of the groups followers are coming to arms against the accusations due to the group’s altruistic past, but some say it was to be expected._

“ _The attack was caused by a hijacked missile fired from a military base whose location will remain secret.  The death toll so far is seventy-three with a total of sixty-five injured or still fighting for their lives.  Twelve of those deaths were children._ ”

 

Marcus’ chest heaved.  He leaned his head against the locker, squeezing his eyes shut and slamming his fist against one of the metal doors.  He knew that kids were dead— He’d seen it happen right there outside the building— but the statistics on how many others there were made it all so real.

 

Wrench and Sitara looked in his direction.  Sitara nudged Wrench, but he was practically already standing.

 

“Marcus?” He asked, approaching carefully.  “You okay?”  He asked, leaning against the offended locker.

 

Marcus face was in a silent snarl.  He looked up and leaned closer, causing shock to momentarily fill Wrench’s mask, but he realised that Marcus was just trying to keep something quiet.  “They killed kids, man…”  Marcus managed, keeping his gaze firmly on Wrench’s shoulder.

 

Wrench mask grew blank.  He drew Marcus into a hug before he had time to think about.  “We’re gonna get them.  You know we are.”

 

Marcus let his face rest on Wrench, far up on his neck to avoid the spikes on his vest.  Wrench held on too long, too hard, and he knew it, but he didn’t want to leave Marcus in his head for any length of time.  Marcus wore his heart on his sleeve, and Wrench wanted to keep it from breaking. He just wished he knew how.

 

~

 

It grew late.  Josh and Ray were still hard at work, headphones on and grilling their systems as hard as they could.  Sitara inevitably fell asleep after Marcus did extensive research to make sure it was safe for her to do so.  Wrench and Marcus enjoyed their own share of painkillers and lay on either of the couches nearer to the stairs, heads near each other.

 

“We can’t catch a fucking break, can we?”  Wrench mused, gripping his mask with his hands.

 

Marcus snorted.  “Ain’t no rest for the wicked, man.”  He tilted his head to look at Wrench.  “You doin’ okay?”

 

Wrench groaned, distorted through his mask.  “Don’t even ask me that, man, you’re doing worse.  I know how you feel about kids.”

 

He could almost hear Marcus’ gentle smile.  “I didn’t ask you if _I_ was doing okay.  I asked if _you_ were doing okay.”

 

Wrench breathed a sigh.  “…The short answer is no.”

 

Marcus rolled onto his side to look at him better.  “What’s the long answer?”

 

Wrench’s hands remained over his mask.  After a moment, they moved away, and Wrench’s mask echoed his anger.  “…There are seventy some people dead, and people are blaming us.  The person responsible doesn’t have a face for me to punch yet, and I’m…”  He went quiet.  “…I’m not gonna lie to you M, I’m actually scared.  I’m not usually the pessimist, but how long can we keep winning?  This guy took over a fucking military weapon and killed a shit ton of people with it.  We haven’t had anything that bad happen.  Ever.  In the history of Dedsec.”

 

Marcus pondered this.  “You think we made ourselves too big of a target?”

 

“It’s not even that.  I mean it is, to some extent, because Josh doesn’t deserve this shit.  But they’re going after bystanders.  We kept our shit in the houses of our enemies, but they’re going above and beyond to cause civilian casualties, and that is fucked the fuck up.”  Wrench balled his hands into fists.  “Promise me we won’t go easy on them.”

 

“If I ever don’t promise you that, assume I’ve been brainwashed.”  Marcus shifted to lie on his back again, closing his eyes.  “But right now we gotta lay low.  We need to prove it wasn’t our code that fired that missile.  When Josh is clear, guns blazing is go.”

 

Wrench sighed and flopped onto his back again.  “…I hate just sitting here.”

 

“We won’t be for long.”  Marcus reached over and poked the side of Wrench’s mask.  “Go to sleep.  It’s late, we’re injured, and we’re probably still a little hung over.  Our heads’ll be clearer in the morning.”

 

Wrench whined.  “Fiiine…”  He tilted his head back and watched Marcus resituate to get comfortable.  “G’night Marcus.”

 

Marcus dared a small smile and reached over to pat Wrench’s head through his hood.  “Night Wrench.”  He drew his arms back and laid one across his face, cutting off the world.

 

Wrench bit his lip beneath his mask.  As much as it was nice to receive comfort from Marcus, he hated when it was despite Marcus’ own pain.  Wrench never felt like he was any good at the comfort aspect of grief, but if there was anyone on this planet he’d make the effort for, it was Marcus.

 

~

 

Wrench lied there for hours.  Marcus’ sleep was restless, but he stayed unconscious.  Sitara had gotten up twice for more medicine before checking on Josh and Ray and being shooed back to sleep.  Eventually, the busy ticking of the keyboards slowed to one as Ray caved in for the night.  He heard the sounds of a gentle ushering for Josh to get some rest, but they were refused.  Ray gave up and found himself a dark corner to hunker down in.

 

When the sounds of Josh typing grew slow, Wrench finally sat up.  He gave Marcus a cautious stare before standing and making his way over to Josh.

 

The young hacker was nodding off.  He’d slowly lean off in one direction before snapping himself out of it and back to work.  But it wouldn’t last, and he’d be nodding again in a new direction.  Wrench sighed and came up to him along the side of the table.  “Hey, Josh.”  He knocked lightly on the table beside him.

 

Josh jarred awake again and rubbed at his eyes.  “Sorry.  I’m awake, I’ll keep going.”  He brought his hands back to his laptop.

 

Wrench grabbed the lid of the laptop and pulled the whole thing backward, drawing an offended squawk out of Josh.  “No.  I don’t want you to keep going, I want you to sleep.”

 

Josh shook his head.  “No, I have to keep going.  Ray’s asleep; Someone needs to keep digging.”

 

“So I’ll do it.  Go to sleep.  Seriously.”  Wrench leaned on the table.  “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

 

Josh stared at his laptop in frustration.  “…I just can’t believe I got us into this.”

 

Wrench knelt down so that he was level with Josh.  “You didn’t get us into anything.  Somebody out there has it in for Dedsec.  If it hadn’t been you, it would have been one of us.”  He reached for Josh’s shoulder but waited for that small nod of permission to make contact.  He squeezed.  “You’re working really hard, but if you exhaust yourself, you won’t be able to work anymore.  Okay?  You should sleep if only so you’re better equip to cornhole those fuckers in the morning.”

 

Josh gave a half-hearted snicker.

 

Wrench mask beamed a happy expression at him.  “There we go.  Come on.  Up, up, up.”  He helped Josh out of his chair.

 

Josh yawned and gave the floor a nervous look.  “…What if I can’t prove it wasn’t me…?  What if I get arrested?”

 

“They have to find you first, and we’re not gonna let that happen.”  Wrench tugged him over to the couch where he’d been failing to sleep earlier.

 

Josh sat carefully, eyes heavy with stress, and furrowed his brow.  “It’s never been this bad, Wrench.”

 

Wrench guided him to lie down.  “I know…  But we’ll fix it.”

 

Josh stared hard at the ceiling for a while.  Then he squeezed his eyes shut and nodded.  “Thanks Wrench.”

 

“Anytime.”

 

It didn’t take long for Josh to fall asleep. He’d curled onto his side and slept with his head tucked into the back of the couch.  Wrench draped his vest over him when he shivered, for all the good it would do.  Josh always looked scared and cold when he slept, like a prey animal in burrow.

 

He turned his gaze back to Marcus and sighed.  He debated something behind that mask and eventually reached for his face.  He barely laid his hand against Marcus’ cheek, just to feel what it was like to be this close.  Then he pulled away and grabbed his own computer, packing it into a bag and hurrying up the stairs.

 

They weren’t going to get anywhere fast without a ground fleet, and Wrench was sick of it being Marcus.  The air was crisp this early before sunrise, and it filled Wrench with vigour and resolve.  He’d be back before anyone woke with everything they needed.

 

He found a car parked along the sidewalk and hacked his way in, started the vehicle and grimacing at the pop music that blared from the speakers.  He flipped through stations until he found one with music fitting his mood- loud rock with a dash of problems with authority- and he gunned it down the road toward the outskirts of the city.

 

He’d find out who did this.  For Josh- For Marcus- For all of them.

 

~


	3. All Fall Down

Wrench eyed the wall between him and the military base with determination.  He pulled out his phone and flipped through the hacked feeds of the dozens of cameras in the base.  The over-coverage was good for reconnaissance, but for Wrench to get around, it would be harder.  The feeds weren’t like the ones in the city.  Someone would definitely be watching these live, and if he was spotted, he’d be taken in minutes.  As much as he was more of a demolition man than a scouter, the brute force of one (albeit furious) man against who know how many troops stationed at the base would not fare well.  Especially since they were not his target.  They were victims in this as well.

 

Wherever the hell they were.

 

As Wrench flipped through the views of the cameras, he grew anxious.  He couldn’t find _anyone_.  He assumed at first that maybe the base was evacuated— Someone had compromised the site after all, it made sense— But this was the military, and a skeleton crew was mandatory.  To see the whole site barren made Wrench uneasy.  Still, he had a mission here, and he wasn’t about to abandon it.  He kept his eyes peeled for people but began hunting down his target in the feeds.

 

“Fantastic… three floors into sublevel basement, and all I have to do is avoid about sixty fucking cameras.  Sounds easy enough,” He mused aloud.  It did feel easy.  It shouldn’t have, given where he was, but he figured now was as good a chance as any to get the job done.  Maybe he got lucky.

 

He stuffed his phone back in his pocket and cracked his neck, throwing a blanket he’d nabbed from the back of his stolen car over the razor wire of the fence in his way.  He climbed his way on top of it and took a breath, retrieving his phone again now that he had a hand free.  He watched the lawn camera feed, waiting until its track was away from him, and launched himself over.

 

He touched down and rolled to his feet, bolting across the empty space until he reached a blind spot just to the right of one of the doors.  He checked the camera and gave a groan when he found it static.  He couldn’t even force the camera to swivel away.  He stared out at the empty lawn like a cornered animal.  “All right, plan B.”

 

He tucked his phone away and pulled his laptop out of his bag.  He pulled all the feeds up at once into a program he’d messed with since high school and pressed record.  When he was younger, he’d used this hack to sneak into a teacher’s office unseen to change a grade.  It had been how he handled neglecting homework until he’d dropped out from the mundanity of it all. School didn’t teach you anything.  School taught you to be part of a machine, and the day he realised it was the day he’d called it quits.

 

The cameras completed a full loop, arching from one end of their visual path to another and back again, and Wrench cut the recording.  He leeched the program into the actual feeds and replaced the live feed with his recorded loop.

 

And thus, the mission grew simple.  Now he just had to avoid any people he may have missed.

 

He moved to close the laptop, but he paused before doing so.  It was almost six in the morning.  Given Marcus’ early bird attitude (when he wasn’t partying), the odds are he would be waking up soon.  Wrench sighed.  He may as well cover his bases.

 

He pulled his phone out and brought up his connection, sending the location and ctOS feeds to Marcus’ phone so he’d see them when he did rouse and find him missing.  Marcus would be the one to worry.  With any luck, he’d actually be home or on his way by the time Marcus was up.

 

Wrench stood up and checked the feeds on his phone one last time, making sure whoever was watching was blind.  Sure enough, as he moved on front of the door, the broadcasted feeds showed nothing but the door in the early morning shadow.  Wrench grinned.  “All right, come on now, try to challenge me.”

 

He hacked the keycarded lock on the door and carefully opened it inwards.  Not a soul greeted him on the other side.  He gave a heavy sigh and headed in.  “Here goes nothing.”

 

The hallways were long and winding inside.  Not that Wrench had never seen the inside of a military base before (this was not his first excursion, but that last time he’d been ten and forgiven for childish carelessness), but he’d never had to go in this deep.  Why did this place need so many sublevels?  What other weapons did they have here, and why on Earth were they so unguarded now?  He ignored again how uncomfortable and _wrong_ this whole thing felt and pressed on.

 

The building was laid out much like a navy ship, with halls and rooms label with numbers and letters, and various staircases leading to any given area.  Wrench fought a child-like glee building in him the further he got.  He wondered idly is this is how Marcus had felt when he got to sneak into Galilei and actually touch the rocket.

 

“ _Wrench what the fuck are you doing!?_ ”

 

Ah.  Speak of the devil.

 

Wrench hummed in response as the radio feed opened up.  “Ah, hey Marcus.  I couldn’t sleep.  Figured I’d get us a few legs up on the whole ‘can’t find the fucking feeds’ thing by connecting to the source directly.”

 

He heard Marcus groan.  “ _So you went there alone?  What were you thinking!?_ ”

 

Wrench sighed.  “I was _thinking_ that I’m the only person capable of doing this right now.  I didn’t get that hurt in the explosion, it’s you and Sitara who got it bad.  Ray’s too old, and Josh has done enough.  I’m just gonna beam you the files of the recorded shit and then bounce.  I’ll be fine.”

 

“ _That’s a fucking army base, Wrench.  The one that Dedsec allegedly hijacked a fucking missile from!  If you get caught, they’re not gonna ask you what you were doing in there, they’re gonna kill you._ ”

 

Wrench hacked his way through another door and beamed.  “Did you know that the more frequently you say a person’s name, the more you love them?”

 

“ _Wrench!_ ”

 

“See?  Aw, I didn’t know you cared so much, M.”  He moved into the dark space lit with the lights of several servers.  “Ooh.  Jackpot.”

 

“ _Wrench I mean it, you have to get out of there._ ”

 

Wrench stiffened and glared at nobody.  “Would you leave?”  There was silence in response.  “If you can tell me right fucking now that if you were down here trying to clear Dedsec’s name— to clear Josh— you’d leave because it was dangerous, I’ll walk out that door and we’ll find another way.”

 

Marcus remained silent, but Wrench still waited.  Eventually Marcus gave a defeated sigh.  “ _I’m gonna watch your back, and I’m on my way, you hear me?  You do what you need to do, and I’ll focus on those cameras, but if something goes south, if I tell you to get the fuck out, you get the fuck out.  I don’t care if you don’t get the information we need._ ”

 

Wrench grinned and chuckled.  “Heard, boss man.”

 

“ _I’m not your boss.  I’m just a very concerned friend._ ”

 

“Yeah, more like my mom.”

 

Marcus tried to draw some humour back into his voice and gave a nervous laugh.  “ _Will you stop wasting time?_ ”

 

Wrench snickered again.  “Yeah yeah.”

 

He moved to the first of the various servers and pulled out a cord to connect to it.  It did feel infinitely better knowing that the camera poised above his head was now the bird’s-eye view of Marcus.  There was something freeing about knowing he was watching.

 

The feed buzzed to life again.  “ _Wrench, when you get back here, I’m going to strangle you._ ”

 

Wrench beamed up at the camera and waved.  “Sitara!  How’s your head?”

 

“ _Better than yours is gonna be._ ”

 

Wrench snorted and weeded his way through some files.  “Ah, it’s worth it.  The faster we can get Josh outta the fire, the better.  Oh hey, do you think I could touch one of the nukes?  Do you think they keep those here?”

 

Marcus cut in.  “ _Absolutely not._ ”

 

“I wasn’t asking you, mom.”  Wrench dug a bit further and grinned as he found video files from the previous day logged away in an encrypted folder.  “Oh.  Well that was a walk in the fucking park.  Hey, this folder’s encrypted, but I can still get it to you.”

 

The radio buzzed to life in his ear with a new voice.  “ _That’s fine.  It was the retrieval of the files that was impossible from outside; I can crack the encryption here easily if I have the files._ ”  It was Josh.

 

Wrench beamed at the camera again.  “Hey Josh!  How did you sleep?”

 

“ _This was very stupid._ ”

 

Wrench laughed.  “So I’ve been told.”  He selected the folders he figured he needed and began downloading them to his phone and straight to their HQ.

 

Ray was found on their feed next.  “ _Boy-_ ”

 

“I know, I know, I’m gonna get a few knocks when I get home.  Sheesh.  And I thought I was the violent one.”

 

The old man sighed.  “ _I’m not about to say this wasn’t the right course o’ action, but dammit, a little communication would be nice._ ”

 

Wrench’s chest was full.  Of air, of love, he couldn’t tell, but whatever it was reminded him of why he wasn’t doing this alone anymore.  The uneasy feeling he had initially coming here was quickly washing away with the knowledge that he was surrounded by his friends, even if it wasn’t physically.  They were here for him.  Marcus was on his way.  Dedsec was his family, and whoever it was trying to hurt them would have to pry them from his cold, dead fingers.

 

~

 

Marcus had his phone mounted on the dashboard of a stolen mini cooper as he drove to Wrench’s location.  It cycled through the feeds around where Wrench was holed up, downloaded what was turning out to be an extensive amount of data, and also the door.

 

The lack of staff at the base was making Marcus nervous as well.  He may have just been pessimistic, but easy tasks always meant something stronger was coming.  He wasn’t ready to find out what that was.  “I’m ten minutes out, Wrench.  What’s your download lookin’ like?”

 

“ _Inches away, Marcus.  I’m telling you, if I’d have known getting into a military base was gonna be this easy, there would not be a single weapon in troops hands that hadn’t been on my balls._ ”

 

Marcus let himself laugh.  It was easing the tension of it all.  “Thank you for ensuring that I will never accept another weapon from you ever again.”

 

Wrench gasped in protest.  “ _Well I never!  Marcus, to think you’d be so closed minded.  I only dry hump the weapons I give you.  Clothes on.  Cross my heart._ ”

 

Marcus laughed again.  “I’m gonna have to have a talk with you about your eh, _love_ of weapons.”

 

“ _You wanna come fire my gun?_ ”

 

Marcus shook his head.  “Shut up, man.”

 

One of the feeds crossed his phone, and the light-hearted air of the situation grew heavy.  Marcus’ heart felt like it dropped out of his chest.  In the feed, a heavily armed soldier strode out from one of the blind spots of the cameras, marching on stealthy feet in the direction of a staircase leading to Wrench’s floor.  “Fuck Wrench, get out.  Get out _now_.”  He pulled the car over and yanked his phone off the dash, pulling out his computer.

 

He pulled up the feeds of Wrench and watched as the main power of the facility kicked on, bathing Wrench in light.  Wrench looked around.  “ _There’s nobody here yet.  Marcus, the transfer’s not complete._ ”

 

“I don’t care, Wrench!  Get the fuck out of there!  They know you’re there!”  Marcus scouted the feeds, and his stomach caved in as he saw more and more armoured soldiers walking out of camera blindspots.  “There are seven guys about to be on you, man, you gotta go!”  He flipped through the feeds and started setting off newly running machinery to try and draw the soldiers away from Wrench.  None of his distractions seemed to be working.

 

He watched in the server feed Wrench’s head slowly drop, and he leaned against the server he was hacking.  “ _…No.  I’m getting you these files.  It’s almost done._ ”

 

Josh’s voice cut into the radio again.  “ _This is probably enough, Wrench.  Marcus is right, you should leave.  I’ll work with what we have._ ”

 

“ _Probably isn’t good enough,_ ” Wrench argued.  “ _And if I disconnect now, the data could corrupt and we’re back at square one._ ”

 

“ _Wrench, we can piece it together if they happens!_ ”  Sitara’s voice was growing frantic.  They hadn’t heard her this bad since they watched Horatio get taken away.

 

“ _Kid, this is not a fight to put all your chips in for.  Pull back, we’ll try again later._ ”  Ray’s advice seemed to fall on deaf ears.

 

Wrench shook his head.  “ _The longer we wait, the worse it’ll get._ ”  He sounded darkly resolute, and Marcus was soon realising what Wrench was doing.

 

“Wrench, your window of escape is closing fast!  You get out now, or you don’t get out at all!”

 

Wrench took a deep breath and leaned back from the server, turning to face the camera.  The mask mugged those carrots of happiness back at Marcus.  “ _Looks like I’m sticking around then, huh?_ ”

 

Ray yelled again.  “ _They will kill you!  You’re a known threat on military property!  You’re going to die, kid!_ ”

 

Wrench turned to his download and watched the final seconds of the download tick down.  He turned back to the camera and have it a salute.  “ _The needs of the many…_ ”

 

Marcus stomach lurched.  “Don’t do this.  Not like this, man, not like this...”  He flipped through the feeds and cut into a few of the soldiers’ communications feeds, sending them through waves of pain from the feedback in their headsets. But there were too many.  He didn’t have enough power.

 

He watched Wrench moved to the front of the room by the door, settling on his knees and putting his hands up into the air for all the good it would do him.  “ _Marcus… I-_ ”

 

The door was kicked in, narrowing missing Wrench.  The download completed behind him.

 

The butt of a gun was brought to the side of Wrench’s head and knocked him off of his knees and onto the floor.  Marcus held his breath as the mask skittered across the floor.  It came to a stop beneath the foot of suited man, who smirked at it.  Marcus held his breath as two soldiers came in and hefted Wrench off the floor.  He watched Wrench’s head lull to look up at the man.  Wrench was alive, for however much longer that would be.  Marcus switched the car into gear again and gunned it.  He was less than ten minutes out.  He could make it this time.

 

He tried to focus on the road, but he kept an eye on the feed.  The man with his foot on Wrench’s mask gave him a smirk.  “ _Well.  Returning to the scene of the crime.  Admiring your work?_ ”

 

He couldn’t see Wrench’s face from this angle, but he knew he was glaring.  “ _We didn’t do this._ ”

 

“ _So that wasn’t Dedsec code that logged into this system at 0927 hours, then?  Can you tell me that with a straight face?_ ”

 

Wrench’s head ducked, but he shook it to indicate a no anyway.

 

The man laughed.  “ _You’re not as good a liar without your mask, are you?_ ”  He lifted his foot and brought it down on the mask.  The LCD screen cracked and shorted out, and he kicked the mask aside.

 

“ _Marcus…!_ ”  Sitara’s scared voice fluttered in his ear.

 

“I know, I know.  I’m gonna get there, I’m gonna get him.”  Marcus had no idea how fast he was going, but he didn’t care.  The road was empty of people this far out anyway, so it hardly mattered.

 

The suited man motioned for the soldiers to walk Wrench out of the room, and he followed, not even bothering to unplug Wrench’s phone or computer from the servers.  Marcus quickly switched views to keep Wrench in his sights.  “ _It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since the attack.  Don’t you think it’s a bit early to come back here?_ ”

 

“ _I’m not here to mess with anything; I’m here clearing our name…_ ”  Wrench managed, unable to lift his gaze from the floor.  It hurt Marcus how withdrawn Wrench became with the mask gone, and now it was broken.  That set something wrathful in Marcus ablaze.

 

The man paused his gait and cleared his throat.  The soldiers at Wrench’s sides stopped walking and forced him down onto his knees.  Marcus checked his power supply in a panic.  He had to do something soon.

 

The man walked around to stand in front of Wrench with his arms carefully and robotically at his sides.  “ _Your story is very sweet.  It probably ends with something about how you didn’t mean to hurt all those people, and you were only trying to make a point._ ”

 

Wrench tried to fight the hold on him.  “ _It’s not going to end that way because we didn’t do it!  Someone is trying to fuck with us!_ ”

 

The man gave a sneer when Wrench looked up and brought a swift kick to Wrench’s gut.  Wrench’s body went tense, and then completely lax in the soldiers’ arms.  Marcus could still hear him coughing, so he was still conscious.  He still had time.  Wrench spit something up, and the man sighed.  ” _Oh don’t go getting blood on my shoes.  That’s rude._ ”

 

“ _F-Hh-…Fuck you…_ ”

 

“Wrench I’m comin’.  I’m comin’ dammit, hang in there, please.”  He opened his laptop in the passenger seat and barely looked at the screen.  He had to squelch them.  If they were in too much pain to focus, maybe Wrench could get away.  He struck a few keys and executed the command.  He was minutes away.  He could save him.  Several soldiers all curled in pain as the whirring and screeching bounced through every comm.

 

But the men on Wrench, and the man in the suit were unmoved.  The suit arched a brow, looking pleasantly, terrifyingly amused if anything.  He glanced up directly at the camera.  He grinned.  He took a step toward Wrench and kicked him hard in the face.  Marcus flinched as he yanked Wrench’s head to look in the direction of the camera.  Wrench looked bloodied and broken, and… ready.  That was what hurt Marcus the most.  “ _I think we’ve got an audience._ ”  He reached over with another hand and yanking the headset Wrench usually had tucked under his mask off of him and onto the ground.  “ _Let’s say hello, shall we?_ ”  He stood away from the wounded hacker.

 

The man drew a gun.  Marcus’ heart stopped.  The gun was pointed at Wrench, and the man turned his smile back to the camera.  “ _Regards, mister Holloway._ ”

 

All the feeds went black.

 

Wrench’s headset picked up on last sound, a deafening gunshot, before it’s feed was reduced to static.

 

Marcus could only scream.

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X X


	4. Going Dark

Marcus’ fists were raw.  He’d spent the better part of the last twenty minutes screaming and punching the roof of the car after he’d screeched to a halt on the side of the road.  He grew tired and empty, but the rage stayed, bringing his fists down on any surface he could find, swinging one so hard, the driver side window cracked.

 

He eventually wound down and settled into the seat, hands bloodied and covering his face.  His glasses were somewhere in the car where they’d been flung.

 

“ _Marcus!_ ”  Although they were all talking, trying to get through, Ray’s voice is the one that sounded loudest and pulled him back to the present.  “ _Turn around.  Come home._ ”

 

“No.”

 

Sitara barely managed to speak.  “ _No!  You come home right now!  I am not losing anybody else, do you fucking hear me!?  I can’t lose anyone else!_ ”  It was clear she’d been crying.

 

Marcus snarled.  “I’m not leaving without bringing him home.  I can’t.  Not again.”  He took a few deep breaths to steady himself and brought the car back onto the road again.

 

“ _You’re just walking into the same damn trap, kid,_ ” Ray tried.

 

“I know what’s in there, Ray!  I’m not going in blind.  I’m not leaving him.”  He pulled his headset off before anyone else could argue and threw it into his bag.  He couldn’t leave anybody else.

 

He arrived at the site, and it looked barren again.  A quick glance at the feeds showed that they were still dark, and it didn’t seem like they would be coming up anytime soon.  He pulled his facemask over his mouth and nose and tucked the car away somewhere hidden.  As he got out of the car, his chest twisted as he found that he’d not parked far from where Wrench’s own commandeered vehicle was.  He’d been so close.  He moved to the wall, and the blanket Wrench had laid over the razor wire was still there, as if Wrench was helping him get in.  Marcus scaled the wall with ease.  Once on the other side, he armed himself with his gun and made for the door.  He didn’t have a way to really see where he was going with the cameras down, but he remembered some of the path.  He knew he had to go down.  Down would take him to Wrench.

 

This time, with all the bright lights, he could see that everything appeared to be empty.  Nobody was waiting in the shadows to jump him.  Nobody was hiding in any other rooms until they got a signal.  This place had cleared out as quickly as it had filled.  He knew why it had been so empty now.  This had been a sting.  Any military was made to leave so whoever had murdered Wrench could perform without bounds.  Who had that much power to clear the military out?

 

The halls echoed back nothing as he walked through them.  Stairwells led to bright corridors that were tomblike in nature now.  Marcus throat was dry.  He descended a final staircase, gun ready, and felt sick when he realised that he was heading for the hall where it happened.  They’d been moving for these stairs before the suit stopped them.  They might have continued if Marcus hadn’t tried to free Wrench from them…  Would Wrench still be alive if he hadn’t done anything?  He held his breath and descended the last of the stairs.

 

The hallway was empty.  Marcus eyes narrowed, and he moved against the wall so he wouldn’t be seen if anyone was still there.  The hallway was spotless.  He paused near the center of the hall where there was a chip missing in the cement where the bullet had struck it.  There didn’t seem to be any blood at all, which didn’t make any sense.  Even before the gunshot, Wrench had been bleeding badly.  He reached down and touched the floor.  It felt wet.  His heart sank again.  Somehow, in a half hour, someone had scrubbed this place clean.  His breath left him in a shaky sigh, and he braced himself against the wall to stand up.

 

The server room’s door was shut again.  He aligned his phone with its frequency and unlocked it again, and the door slid open with ease.  The room was empty.  Wrench’s computer and phone were missing, but Marcus wasn’t really concerned about that.  Wrench’s paranoia made him smart.  Any and all electronics he had would internally self-destruct and take all its contents with it if anyone tried to get in without Wrench’s login. That was how Wrench kept them safe.

 

But those electronics were gone now.  Aside from the bullet hole there was no sign that Wrench had ever been here.

 

Marcus’ chest heaved in a broken sob.  He dropped to his knees, where Wrench had been less than hour ago with his hands in surrender.  He’d gotten there too late again.  Wrench was gone.  For a moment, he didn’t care how loud he was being.  He screamed expletives at nobody, bashed his already injured hands against the floor, and cried until he couldn’t feel his face.  By the time he was done, he was curled on the floor, staring at the servers.

 

A glint caught his bleary eye from beneath them.  His breath caught in his throat.  He crawled forward and reached under the machines for something— Anything— and his hand caught riveting and leather.  That breath left him in a weak sob, and he pulled the object out to reveal Wrench’s cracked mask.  It hadn’t been taken.  He sat up leaned against the servers, knees drawn up, and mask facing him from his hands.  It looked so foreign when it wasn’t attached to its owner, and it made Marcus feel sick.

 

As he looked into the mask, he brought it forward and rested his forehead against the cracked eyeshield.  This was all he would have of Wrench now.  He wasn’t even able to hold him like he had been able for Horatio.  He hadn’t been there for Wrench.  Wrench was gone.

 

…But why would they take his body and clean up the scene so quickly?  The only one who knew what happened was Marcus, and there wasn’t anything he could have done if he found Wrench’s body. He would have taken him home so they could mourn.  Did they take him away so he couldn’t do that?

 

Or was it something else?  He pressed the mask to his chest and stood, clearing his eyes and walking back out into the hallway.  He tucked the mask safely into his bag.  He pulled his phone from his pocket and review the captured feeds from the scene, rewinding it to the suit’s final words.

 

“ _Regards, mister Holloway._ ”  He watched the gun find Wrench’s head, and his breath left him again.  He paused it just before the feed went black and studied the suited man.  He shifted his feet until he was standing right where the man had been, and he pulled his gun.  He pointed it where the man had, where Wrench’s limp head had been, where his blood had pooled from his bleeding nose, and now that Marcus was looking, the floor was still a bit stained.

 

But where the gun was pointed, the floor was unchipped.  The bullet hole was a foot away.  Wrench could still have been shot, but there was no proof now that it was fatal.

 

Wrench wasn’t taken away to keep them from mourning.  He was taken hostage.

 

Marcus glared at no one and stuffed his phone in his pocket.  He turned in the hallway with new rage fuelling his feet as he scaled the stairs, keeping his gun drawn.  This wasn’t over.

 

~

 

Marcus was already in motion when the door to HQ opened for him.  He was met halfway down the stairs by an armful of Sitara.  He caught her and held her tight, and she was shaking as hard as he was.

 

“ _Fuck_ you, Marcus Holloway!”  She shrieked into his chest before pulling her fists back and beating his shoulders.  “You never _EVER_ cut off contact! We didn’t know if you were okay, we didn’t know when you were coming home, it wasn’t safe to come find you, we didn’t know if you were dead too, or dying, or-”

 

Marcus let her do her damage (Sitara hit hard; it would bruise later for sure) before gathering her again and letting her scream into his shirt.  If this was Sitara’s state, he was afraid to see anybody else.

 

They eventually made it down the stairs.  Ray was on the couch, watching nothing in particular.  He’d already started in on the beer.  Josh had moved his chair and was now sitting at the Wrench bench.  His head was rested firmly on the flat of the work space, and he wasn’t moving.

 

Sitara pursed her lips and gazed at the floor, still under Marcus’ arm.  “He pulled his chair there when it happened…”  She sniffed.  “He hasn’t moved.”

 

Marcus sighed and stared at the floor.  He felt cold, and the room felt empty without the occasional humming of their engineer.  But he was not convinced this was the end.  He inhaled slowly and lifted his head.  “Wrench isn’t dead,” He insisted.

 

Sitara went tense beneath him.  Ray stopped mid sip of beer.  Josh didn’t move.

 

Ray was the one who finally responded.  “Marcus… I know that’s what you wanna think-”

 

“No.  I know it.”  Marcus was adamant, despite Sitara’s hand against his bruised chest.

 

Ray slowly stood up with an aged groan.  He turned to Marcus.  “They shot him point blank, kid.  People don’t come back from that.”

 

Marcus shook his head and pulled away from Sitara.  “The bullet hole and where Wrench was in the shot didn’t add up, okay?  I know what I saw in the damn feed, if that bullet went through his damn head, that hole woulda been somewhere else.”

 

Ray bit back a bitter snarl.  He reached frustrated hands toward Marcus.  “That’s what grief does to ya, son.  You don’t want it to have happened, this is the denial phase.  And I hate this fuckin’ phase.  You go around spoutin’ nonsense and gettin’ your hopes up, but it’s all gonna come down soon, and it’s gonna hurt _worse_.”

 

“Why would they take him away if he was dead?”  Marcus was trying not to get angry.  “What purpose would that even serve?  If they wanted us to hurt because of his death, they woulda left his damn body!  They woulda proved it!  It don’t make any sense Ray!”

 

“It’s not going to make any sense!”  The shout came from Josh.  All eyes turned to him as he fiddled with his fingers, keeping his head down.  “It won’t ever make sense…”

 

Sitara looked at Marcus with a deep concern before abandoning him to find Josh’s side.  She hovered her hands around his shoulders, but didn’t touch him.

 

Josh continued.  “They took his body because there can’t be any proof…  That’s how the CIA works.”

 

The pieces in Marcus’ head suddenly stopped spinning and fit together.  All of the little cogs began turning as they should, and none of it was good news.  Marcus’ face fought the agony that tried to span it.  “The CIA.  The damn CIA is involved now.”

 

“That place is probably going to be completely scrubbed by noon.”  Josh’s matter-of-fact pattern of speaking was only broken by how much his hands were shaking and how hard his eyes were shut.  “You got out just in time…  If you’d have stayed any longer, you’d have died with Wrench…  And then we wouldn’t have your body either.”

 

Marcus’ snarl grew.  “So they… made Wrench disappear.”

 

Sitara bit her lip and forced her eyes shut to keep her emotions shallow.  “I’m so sorry Marcus…  But if we go back out there, we’re all gonna disappear next.”  She stared at her shaking hands and finally steadied them on Josh’s shoulders.  “I’m not willing to lose anyone else…  I’m sending out a call to lay low.  All of Dedsec is a target now, and none of these people are going to listen to anything we say.”

 

Ray moved to Marcus and took his arm.  “Come on, kid… Sit down.  Take as much time as ya need.  The fucker knows your name, so while the rest of Dedsec is layin’ low, you gotta be lower.”

 

Marcus flinched and yanked his arm away, holding his hands up.  “I can’t just do _nothing_.”

 

Ray stared him down.  “And doing anything else is gonna get you killed like-”

 

“I swear to god, if you say Wrench-”

 

“ _Like Wrench!_ ”  Ray’s voice bellowed louder than anyone thought it was able to.  “I don’t wanna be the bad guy here!  But Wrench shouldn’t have left without tellin’ us!  He shouldn’t have gone in there at all, but he did, and he’s gone now.  And dammit, I can’t lose anybody else either.”  He walked away, back arched in a way they made him look ten years older than he was.  “Now if you excuse me, I need to get myself good and drunk if I’m gonna get on with my damn grieving.”

 

Marcus wanted to scream.  He wanted to yell and punch the old man for even daring to imply that Wrench deserved what he got.  But deep down, he knew that wasn’t at all what he meant.  Ray drank and got logical when he was in pain.  Everything needed to be explained for it all to make sense, and he wedged himself firmly in the truth he pulled from it all.  Wrench shouldn’t have left.  He should have stayed with his family.  He’d be alive if he stayed.  But that didn’t mean he hadn’t left for a good reason.  Wrench had gone out and died for a purpose.  He died for them.

 

Marcus stared at the floor.  His own mind was working against him now.  With this new information, his faith in Wrench being alive was wavering.  Wrench’s body wouldn’t have been left behind if the CIA had anything to do with this.  That hall had been almost spotless in less than an hour.

 

It sank into his chest then as he turned to Wrench’s workstation.  Josh and Sitara hadn’t moved.  Wrench wasn’t there, leaning over something small he was tinkering with; no smart responses to anything, no playful flirting that set off bombs in Marcus’ chest.  Just Josh and Sitara, suffering.

 

Marcus inhaled and took a step toward them, legs heavy.  He tugged his bag off of his shoulder and carefully retrieved the mask out of it.  He gave Wrench’s face one last distraught stare before pressing a kiss to the broken eye shield and setting the mask down next to Josh.  “They didn’t get all of him…”  He managed, voice broken and tired.

 

Sitara glanced over Josh’s head and gave a soft gasp of bittersweet relief.  She reached out and touch the leather of the mask, trying to get one last feel of him before he was truly gone.

 

Josh turned his head, his first movement since the feeds were cut.  He looked at the broken mask and swallowed a lump in his throat.  “…Can I fix him?”

 

Marcus gave him the best smile he could muster, looking down at the crack along where Wrench would emote.  “I bet he’d like that.”

 

Josh slowly sat up, and Sitara moved away to let him.  He stood from his seat and went hunting for tools.

 

Sitara turned to Marcus.  They locked gazes for a while.  Marcus eyes held so much pain and things left unsaid.  He let it all out onto his face, and the meaning of it all seemed to dawn on Sitara, causing her to cover her mouth.  “Oh no…  Marcus…”

 

Marcus nodded and turned his gaze to the floor.  “Never told him.”

 

Sitara marched the two steps it took to get to him and yanked him into another hug.  “God, he loved you so much, Marcus.  You’ve gotta believe that.”

 

Marcus kept her close and buried his face in her shoulder.  “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”

 

~

 

A man in a familiar suit was seated in the highest office of a reflective office building, kicked back in his chair with his foot on his desk.  He was wiping something off of the leather with one hand and holding a phone to his ear with the other.  “No, no, I said Thursday… …That’s right, the hunt starts Friday, and I’m gonna need ample time to-… …I’m not gonna remind you how important this is.  We set things into motion this morning, and you promised me that you could handle the Carmello job on your own.”

 

The door to the office opened to a young man with a clipboard.  “Sir?”

 

The suit held up a finger and leaned into the phone.  “Get the job done, or I’m sending someone else to take out Carmello, and then you.”  He hung up, and his stern look disappeared in seconds replaced with a wide slit of a smile.  “Frank.  What can I do for you?”

 

“He’s… here, sir.”

 

“Ah perfect.  Send him in.”  He sat back in his chair and laced his fingers over his stomach.  The secretary, Frank, came back in a few moments later and pulled out the chair on the other side of the man’s desk.

 

Dusan Nemec took his offered seat with a smile.  “Greenwood.”

 

The suit beamed at him.  “Nemec.”  Frank left the room, and Greenwood gave the man a laugh.  He slapped the desk.  “You are the man of the hour, Nemec!”

 

Dusan held his arms out in acceptance.  “I’m telling you.  I know this target.  I know how they work.  I know their code.  You asked for a perfect scapegoat, and I obliged.”

 

Greenwood’s smirk grew amused.  “You certainly did.”  He stood and gave the desk a knock.  “We’re lucky to have you on board.  Blume helped me in quite a few of my jobs.  It was a shame to see it lose so much momentum.”

 

Dusan gave a half-hearted wince.  “Yeah.  Blume is dead.  But that doesn’t mean it can’t be repackaged.  The people will always want to be coddled.  It’s still a shame that Marcus couldn’t see that.”  He glanced up at Greenwood and gave him a sort of manic smile.  “Did you get him?”

 

Greenwood sighed.  “No.  Your information was helpful, but ultimately it was too… narrowminded.”  He stood up and waved for Dusan to follow.

 

Dusan frowned.  “Narrowminded?  Holloway is the biggest threat to your operation and Blume’s resurgence.” He followed Greenwood into an elevator guarded.  “If you take him out, the rest of Dedsec will follow him.  Like lemmings.”

 

Greenwood continued to look amused.  “No offense Dusan, your plans are very thorough.  But Dedsec has proven themselves to be enough of a threat that in order to neutralise them, we need to go for the whole head at once.  And you know as well as I do that Holloway doesn’t work alone.”  The elevator descended, past the well-lit offices and into the depths of the basement of the building.  “You were right though.  They sent someone right into the trap we set.  I almost wish they’d have been more challenging.  I like it when they struggle harder.”

 

Dusan eyed Greenwood with caution.  “One of them took the bait?”

 

Greenwood nodded.  “The masked one showed up in less than a day.”

 

Dusan’s caution grew amused.  “Ah yes.  They call him Wrench.  You took him out?”

 

The elevator doors opened and Greenwood led Dusan out.  He walked down a long, dark hallway full of what looked to be medical rooms.  “We took him out of play.”  He stopped at one room and brandished his hand out to display the room.  Dusan turned his attention to the window.

 

Inside the room, sprawled on a hospital bed with IVs spidering from his arms and bandages covered a gunshot wounded shoulder, was Wrench.  He was barely conscious, maskless, and heavily medicated, but as Dusan looked into those half-lidded, blue eyes, he still found a flicker of recognition, and then the tell-tale signs of fury.  Even barely aware of what was happening, Wrench clearly wanted Dusan several shades of dead.

 

Dusan’s smile faded.  “Alive.  You left him alive.”

 

“We have our reasons.”  Greenwood checked his watch.  “We’ll begin some interrogation when he’s healed up a bit.  In the meantime, he has plenty of time to think about how hard this is going to be for him.”

 

Dusan’s eyes never left Wrench’s.  He twitched.  “You really should have killed him.”

 

Greenwood arched a brow at him.  “You say that like he’s any danger to us.  Trust me.  He won’t be in any state to try anything anytime soon.”

 

“He’s not really the one I’m worried about.”  Dusan finally looked away and met Greenwood’s gaze.  “Holloway is gonna come after him hard.  He lost a team member before to an overzealous gang, and it was nearly wiped out.”

 

Greenwood snorted.  “Dusan, Dusan.  Some gang in San Francisco is _not_ the CIA.  Marcus Holloway won’t be able to do anything once we pick this kid’s brain for their location.”  He reached out and held Dusan’s shoulders.  “I know you must not be in this position very often— subordinate to someone higher up than you— but we pulled you out of prison as a consultant on this.  If you’re hesitating now, I’m not sure how much we can count on you to stay with us in the future.”

 

Dusan’s eyes narrowed.  “I’m only asking that you air on the side of caution.  I didn’t think Marcus Holloway could ruin my plans either.”

 

Greenwood gave a short laugh.  “Thank you for you opinion.”  He turned to the glass again, watching as Wrench’s chest heaved, tried to force some kind of motion into his muscles.  The kid clearly wanted to dive through that window and beat the shit out of Dusan.  Greenwood’s amusement only grew.  “We’ll see how hard they fight when I’m through with them.”

 

~


	5. Breadcrumbs

Days ticked by in silence.

 

Hackerspaces grew less and less populated as they wore on, members of the group deciding that safety meant disappearing.  But most still helped.  Wrench’s garage was cleared by members of anything incriminating or useful to anyone who may come looking.  All of it was delivered to their main HQ.  The number of networks and connections that their main HQ used were dialled back to avoid suspicion, and the emptied hackerspaces were cut off altogether.

 

A lot of Dedsec members kept their rebellion visible but subtle.  Social media portraits began showing up with little decals of a wrench in the bottom corners.  At least one billboard was completely painted over with a wrench, and it had appeared suspiciously while Sitara had been out getting groceries.  Nobody said anything about it when she returned.

 

Nobody said much of anything anymore.

 

It turned out that the servers had been nothing but bait.  Whatever files Wrench had sent them turned out to be blank or junk files.  It was a lure that had been set.  It was a lure that was probably meant for Marcus.  But Wrench had taken it instead.

 

Josh had gone back into whatever systems he could reach to try and find anything they could have used, anything Wrench might have touched on or broken in that could help them find out who started all this.

 

But there was nothing.

 

The bad news continued.  The death toll from the missile attack had risen as more people succumbed to their injuries.  Dedsec was being condemned from every network, social or otherwise.

 

Josh’s focus now was only on fixing the mask.  He busied himself with the wiring and the lights and barely looked at anyone else in the room.  No one interrupted him.  They couldn’t bring themselves to.

 

Ray made himself scarce.  It hurt to have someone walk out, but being responsible for a blackout that killed people and having his name known as well made their HQ that much more of a target.  He promised to keep in touch, and he did so in the form of cleverly coded coupon newspapers that the game store received in the mail.  According to a discount on pork steaks, two for one, Ray was doing just fine, and he’d be in contact with them as frequently as he could.

 

Josh, Sitara, and Marcus remained in the hackerspace.  Josh all but refused to leave, and Marcus wasn’t allowed to unless he had no other choice.

 

The days turned into weeks.  Marcus couldn’t remember a time where he hadn’t smiled for this long.  All he wanted, all he was waiting for now, was the chance for revenge.  One day, they would get a name.  Marcus would find him, put a bullet in his artery, and watch him die slowly.  It was a bitterness that wouldn’t let Marcus go, and it grew every time he gazed upon the Wrench-less mask.

 

Sitara kept going out to get them food.  Marcus eventually convinced Sitara to let him out with all of the disguise prowess of Clark Kent and Superman.  He started wearing smart, button up shirts and ditching his glasses.  He never went anywhere without a tracker app open on his phone, and an open comm.  Every trip outside, he hacked public feeds.  He sat on rooftops and scoured every video he could get his hands on, trying in vain to find that familiar, smug face buying coffee or getting his oil changed.

 

Some days, he found himself on the bench where’d he’d given Wrench back his face.  He sat on his side, staring at the ground between his feet and imagined that Wrench was there beside him, letting himself exist by Marcus exposed and vulnerable.  Wrench had trusted him enough to let him see him like that.  He didn’t put his mask back on the minute he had it in his hands.  He sat there, and he spoke to him.  He let Marcus hear his real voice, undistorted by the mask or their radio, and he promised that he would never turn on him.  That trust was something Marcus made sure never wavered.

 

Weeks became a month.  Wrench’s mask was completed and given a final place at the centre of his workspace, sat upon his folded spiked vest.  Everyone made a point to regard the mask as they walked by.  Sitara touched the spikes so much she was worried they’d wear away.  Josh would sometime sit and go over everything he was going to do to try and get back at whoever hurt them.  Josh tended to list his tasks out loud sometimes anyway, but Marcus figured Josh liked to think that he was just talking about it with Wrench.  But then, no response would come.  Josh would go quiet.  Then he would stand up and return to his space, getting back to work.

 

Marcus talked to Wrench almost every day.  He’d set up his laptop as he worked just beside the mask, camping out on a stool and cracking what few jokes he could that he thought Wrench might have found funny or might have made himself.  And at night, he’d tell Wrench the things he never got to say. He’d promise him that he’d kill the man responsible for his death.  He’d clear their name.  He’d find out who attacked the hospital.  Dedsec would rise again, and it would be because of Wrench.

 

The silence was growing unbearable.  If they didn’t make a move soon, Marcus was going to go out and tell the damn CIA exactly where to find him just so he could plug a few of them and go out with a bang.

 

His breaking point came with the resurgence of the missile attack on the news.

 

He’d been watching the news idly, hoping if anything for a lead on _something_ for them to do, someone to help.  Instead, Dusan Nemec’s face was now paused on the screen, Marcus’ hand trembling as it still held the remote in its grip.  “Sitara!  Josh!  Get the fuck in here!”

 

They hurried to his side in seconds, and Sitara was gripping the back of the couch so hard she could have ripped into it.  “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

 

As soon as Josh was settled next to him, he pressed play again and put the remote down, covering his mouth.

 

“ _-usan Nemec temporarily out of prison as a consultant with authorities for Dedsec’s crimes.  He’s been granted the possibility of a reduced sentence if his information results in an arrest.  So far, his information has led to a search for a man named Joshua Sauchak._ ”

 

The air left the room.  Sitara rounded the couch and parked herself firmly next to Josh as he began to deflate.  Marcus shifted his hand closer, and Josh took it on reflex.

 

“ _Sauchak is suspected to have been the person responsible for the missile attack last month that killed 84 people.  According to Nemec’s information, he’s been a member of Dedsec for years, and a history of mental issues may be to blame for his actions._ ”

 

Josh covered his ears and closed his eyes.  He didn’t want to be here.

 

Marcus, hand free, angrily stood and made for his bag as the newscasters debated what Dedsec must have been thinking to work with someone with Josh’s particular mental state.  Sitara muted the TV and pulled Josh against her once his body language allowed it.  She turned to Marcus.  “Where the fuck are you going?”

 

“We were too damn soft on that mother fucker,” Marcus mused, putting his laptop into the bag and shouldering it.

 

Sitara closed her eyes and sighed.  “What exactly do you expect to be able to do?”

 

“At this point, I don’t care.  If I can get within fifty feet of that fucker, I can put a bullet between his eyes where it belongs.”

 

“And then you die, and we’re down another member.  We're down another _friend._ ”  Sitara pointed at the couch.  “Sit down.  We’ll talk about this and formulate some kind of plan.”

 

Marcus turned around in frustration.  “Oh.  Like we been planning this past fucking month, you mean?  A month of jack shit for leads, doing nothin’!?  I can’t do that anymore, Sitara!  They took Wrench from me!  They’re trying to take Josh, you wanna just _sit_ here-”

 

“They took Wrench from all of us!”  Sitara yelled, clinging to Josh.  “This isn’t all about you, Marcus!”

 

“It _is_ about me!  Dusan is involved, and he wants to get to _me_!  He’ll pick off every single one of you and leave me for last so that I suffer!  He already got Wrench.  He’s going after Josh.  He’ll go after you!”

 

“Unless you walk in there, and he gets to skip attempting the rest of that and just kill you outright!”

 

“STOP.”  Josh’s plea filled the room and brought it to silence again.

 

Sitara dipped her head and mumbled some quiet apologies against Josh’s hat.

 

Josh remained hiding against Sitara, but he was tense.  “Don’t go, Marcus.”

 

Marcus sighed, moving back to the couch and kneeling in front of Josh.  “I have to.  I have to do something before they get you.”

 

“S-So do something from here.”  Josh pulled away, but he let Sitara keep rubbing his arm.  “Dusan’s identity was in the news.  That means that he’s working with more than just the CIA, otherwise the news wouldn’t know about it.  We can search for his information from lower agencies that don’t encrypt their systems as hard.  And from there, we can probably find a way into the CIA.  If we work from the bottom rung, the higher levels are easier.”

 

Marcus watched Josh’s face as he tried to work through Josh’s logic.  He was right.  They already had ways into the FBI’s systems, and local PD was a cake walk in comparison.  For the first time with this lead, they had an in.  Marcus beamed at Josh and clapped a gentle hand on his shoulder.  “I could kiss you, Josh.”

 

“Please don’t.”

 

Marcus gave him a laugh and his shoulder another pat.  Sitara caught his hand before he stepped away.  “Marcus, I mean it.  Unless we know _exactly_ what you’re going into, do not leave HQ.  Okay?  We need you clear headed.  We need to take them down.  Not give them another one of us. You got me?”

 

Marcus sighed.  He looked down at the floor, but he nodded.  “Yeah… Yeah I gotcha.”

 

He shuffled his bag off again, pulling his laptop out and making his way to the Wrench bench.  He set his laptop up next to the mask, and he stared at it for longer than he should have.  “They fucked up, Wrench.  They think showing Dusan off like some sorta trophy is gonna scare us off.  All they’re doin’ is leaving us breadcrumbs now.”  He reached his hand over and rested it on the mask.  “I said I got you, and I got you.”

 

Marcus still hadn’t come to terms with the idea that Wrench wasn’t coming back.  He’d not been able to kill the part of himself that believed Wrench was alive.  During his time searching for the suit, he kept his eyes and ears out for any sign of Wrench as well.  There was virtually nowhere to go that didn’t have some sort of camera, or even a cell phone on nearby that could catch audio.

 

If Wrench was alive, Marcus would find him.  But he’d have to return to that later.

 

~

 

As Marcus and Josh searched, Sitara left the hackerspace for food.  Over the month without their mechanic, Sitara had been taking more and more time away from the others.  As much as she loved her boys, being so strong all the time for them was taking its toll.  She hadn’t grown up expecting comfort, so when she felt her emotions getting the better of her, she left.  Marcus would cast aside his own grief for her, and Josh wouldn’t know what to do, so it was easier to keep it to herself.

 

She certainly achieved the things she’d gone out to do— shopping, hunting wild audios, keeping the rest of Dedsec subtly informed— but now, she was camped on a bench near her tagged billboard, staring at the stylised wrench decal that she’d placed there.  The city had yet to paint over it, but if they ever got around to it, she’d be there that night to paste over it again.  The world would have no choice but to remember Wrench until the day she died.  That day seemed to be approached sooner than she hoped.

 

It was the whispering that pulled her from her silent mourning.  Behind her, across the street, she heard muffled questions and foggy affirmations, and she knew from a life of dealing with people talking behind her back, they were definitely talking about _her_.

 

“Is that her?”

 

“I think so.  I saw her on the news.”

 

“Should we call someone?”

 

“She’s just sitting there…”

 

She narrowed her eyes and looked at her phone, throwing on the best impression she could pull of her niece and tucking the phone to her ear.  “Oh my god, Billy?  Hi!”  She feigned a phone call, standing up and moving away from the suspicious people.  “I like, totally forgot about the party earlier, but I’m on my way.  I’m bringing snacks!  This party is gonna be lit ay-eff!”  She rounded the block and dipped into an alleyway in case she was being followed.  Outside was getting dangerous.

 

She hung her bags from her arm and climbed up into a dumpster, jumping to the nearest fire escape and scaling upwards.  She reached a higher patio and watched as one of the nosey bystanders entered the alley looking for where she had gone.  He looked behind the dumpster, a bit further into the alley, and then he left, shrugging to his companion who was waiting at the mouth of it.

 

Sitara gave a frustrated sigh and continued up the window and onto the roof of the complex.

 

Apparently Josh was not the only one in danger.  Once settled and safe, she pulled out her phone and started doing a search.  She typed in her own name and winced.

 

She found articles with Dedsec and the missile attack in the name.  As she opened them, she found older pictures of her from marches and protests in the past.  All of the articles had her face and name, and while they only implied that she _might_ be a part of Dedsec due to her clothing, nodody had said anything concrete.  Instead, they spoke only of authorities interested in questioning her.

 

But if the CIA was involved, that ‘questioning’ had a high chance of turning into ‘never coming home’.  She gave a deep sigh and cleared her throat.  She turned on her radio.  “Marcus-”

 

“ _I was just about to call you.  You seein’ this?  Are you somewhere safe?_ ”

 

“Yeah, I saw it…”

 

“ _How far out are you?  I can come and get you-_ ”

 

“I’m only a few blocks away.  I’ll get home on my own.”  Sitara stood up and looked around for the least populated side of the building to scale down.  “Stay with Josh.  I don’t want him to be alone.”

 

Marcus was heard sighing.  “ _That’s fair.  Just keep your line open and get home fast.  When you get here, we might have some info.  Yo boy’s a genius._ ”

 

Sitara snorted.  “Marcus since when have you ever called yourself ‘yo boy’?”

 

Marcus laughed in return.  “ _Girl, I was talkin’ about Josh.  Get your ass home._ ”

 

Sitara smiled and threw a leg over the edge of the roof, scaling down a drainage pipe.  “Needy.”

 

She pulled up her hood and hurried back to headquarters, keeping to the inner sidewalks and her head down.  Once she was past the game shop’s crowd, she punched the code in, waiting impatiently for the door to open and ducking in as soon as it did.  The door slid shut behind her, and she finally breathed.  She turned to descend the stairs and almost collided with Josh.  “Woah!”

 

“Are you okay?  Were you followed?”

 

Sitara tugged her hood down and smiled at him.  “No honey, I wasn’t followed.”  She tilted her head at him.  “This is the closest I’ve seen you to the door in weeks.”

 

Josh stared at the groceries and not her face.  “I was worried.”

 

Sitara snickered.  “Well you can be worried at the bottom of the stairs.”  She moved to walk down the stairs with Josh right at her side.  He looked nervous and guilty, and she hated it.  She wanted him to be comfortable.

 

Once they were at the bottom, Marcus was at the main table with his laptop open.  “All that ranting about how I was supposed to stay inside with Josh, and I had to stop _him_ from rushing the door.”

 

Sitara sighed and gave Josh a reprimanding look.  Still, she took a seat next to Marcus.  “Well besides my face all over the news, what info did ‘mah boy’ get?”

 

Marcus gave her the best grin he could muster (it wasn’t what it used to be), and he waved to Josh to explain.

 

Josh took his seat on at the table and opened his laptop, watching the screen.  “I got to thinking about what we could get our hands on while looking for the agent, and I figured that the only feeds that would be seized were any with him in it.  But I didn’t figure any feeds without him would be, and I was right.”  He tilted his computer to the others, and there were various recordings playing.  “Some of these were from before Dusan was taken out of prison, and some after.  I ran a facial recognition to trace him everywhere he went.  It doesn’t seem like the CIA is out to protect their asset by any means.”

 

Sitara squinted at the feeds.  “He’s been everywhere…  Are these chronological?”

 

Marcus nodded. “Yep.  And if you wanna know where Dusan’s been gettin’ all his info from, we got that answer too, thanks to Josh.”

 

Josh glanced at his lap.  “Stop it.”

 

Sitara focused on the feed she knew he must have been talking about, and her mouth dropped open.  “Son of a bitch.”  She made the video bigger.  “Does this have audio?”

 

“Nope.  That, they did block.  It wasn’t even recording audio.”  Marcus watched the silent video play on the screen.  “We need to know what they know.  Somebody’s gotta go see what that is, but we’re all tagged now.  Can you get anyone else to go run recon?”

 

Sitara glared at the laptop and slowly pushed it back toward’s Josh, bringing her hand to his hand as she stood up.  “Awesome job, Josh.”

 

Marcus held his hands out as Sitara walked by him without responding.  “Uh, hello?”

 

She tugged her hair out of its ponytail and started to work out the braids.  “We can’t burden anyone else with the threat of the CIA right now.  They’re doing this to keep us all underground, so we have to do something they’re not expecting.  We have to walk right in.”

 

Marcus looked offended.  “Excuse me?  I’m sorry, have we not been stuck in the same room for a month?  Who the hell’s the one who’s been telling me to stay low and wait until we have a plan?”

 

Sitara finished straightening out her hair and whipped her head to face him.  “Me.  But now we have a plan.”

 

Marcus arched a brow.  “Apparently _you_ have a plan.  Care to share with the class?”

 

Sitara brought her hands to her nose and started spinning her septum piercing around, working to take it out.  “Josh can’t act.  You’re too recognisable.  We need information, so I’m going to go and ask.”  She tugged the piercing out and replaced it with a horseshoe piercing that she kept handy.  Once it was in place, she flipped it into her nose to hide it and held her hand out to Marcus.  “Got a knife?”

 

Marcus blinked at her.  “Why?”

 

“Knife, Marcus.”

 

Marcus sighed and handed her a pocket knife.

 

Sitara held it in her hand and breathed deeply.  “I’ll get in and get out as quickly as I can.  I’ll need you outside in case things go south.”

 

“Are we doing this today?”

 

Sitara reached behind her and pulled her hair together behind her head.  “Today’s as good a day as any.  Visiting hours don’t last forever.”  She reached back with the knife and dragged it across her hair, sharp and fast.

 

Josh and Marcus watched the purple ends drift to the ground in shock.  Sitara shook out her hair and walked over to her station, pulling an art box off of a shelf and pulled out a towel.  “You were right, Marcus,” She said as she took the towel to her face.  “We’ve been in here too long.  Things are going too far.  If we let this go on, we won’t be able to make a dent in whatever they’re planning.  We can’t get any real work done until we can keep people from chasing us.” She finished wiping her face and pulled the towel away, smoothing out her eyebrows.  “So for now, we need to not _be_ us.”  She turned and faced them, hair bobbed and only her natural dark brown, and without a hint of makeup remaining on her eyes.

 

Marcus’ had to sit down.  “Holy shit.”

 

Sitara smirked at him.  “Yeah.  I clean up nice, don’t I?”  She moved over to the lockers and began tugging open doors.  “Funny what a little makeup can do.”

 

Marcus gave her a grin and shook his head.  “Damn…”  He looked up at her as she tugged a pantsuit out of a locker, dusting it off and holding it against her body for size.  “Hey Sitara?”

 

She looked up.  “What?”

 

Marcus gestured to his face.  “Guess I didn’t have to throw you in a pool, huh?”

 

Sitara snorted and threw a shirt at him.  “Shut up, Marcus.”

 

~

 

The last security gate opened in the prison and allowed a guard and a well-dressed woman through into an interview room with a table and a few chairs.  The guard gestured to the table.  “Have a seat.  Your client will be in shortly.”

 

The woman nodded.  “Thank you.”

 

Across the room, another door opened, and a second guard walked an inmate inside, sitting her down and locking her cuffs to the table.  The woman frowned at the motion.  “Honestly.  Is that really necessary?”

 

The guard eyed the woman with disbelief.  “She bit a guard last week and tried to incite a riot.  You’re the fourth attorney she’s had since she’s been here.  We have to be cautious.”  The guard backed up and walked back out of the room.

 

The other guard stood in the doorway for a moment.  “You have ten minutes.”  She shut the door and left the inmate and her new attorney alone to keep their talk private.

 

Lenni, hair growing long and looking strange with her prison prescribed glasses, placed her chained hands on the table.  “I don’t know why the fuck your firm keeps sending you people.  I don’t need a lawyer.  You’re all useless anyway.”

 

Her attorney snorted and sat back in her chair, crossing her arms and losing the professional demeanour in seconds.  “Damn good thing I’m not a lawyer then.”

 

Lenni squinted at her.  Then her eyes grew wide.  “...Ho-ly fuck.  Is that the Dedsec motherfucking queen bitch herself under all that suit?”

 

“Dedsec doesn’t have a queen.”  Sitara leaned her elbows on the table.  “But I am here to negotiate.”

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is seriously lacking a good spellcheck, and I really need to figure out how to post NOT at three in the freaking morning.
> 
> Sorry for the Wrenchless chapter, and I'm also sorry for at this point potentially veering away from canon? I don't have a damn clue what happened to Lenni in any DLC I haven't played yet, but wiki said she's incarcerated, so *SHRUGS INTO SPACE*


	6. Troubleshooting

Sitara glared as Lenni laughed.  She really did just sound like one of her viruses on repeat and didn’t need the broken record effect to be annoying.

 

Lenni wiped away an imaginary tear and seemed to calm down enough to form words.  “I’m sorry, wait, wait, wait.  Dedsec is about to go down in a flaming fucking dumpster fire, and you think that I’m gonna _help you_?”  She laughed again.

 

Sitara arched a brow at her.  “You done?”

 

Lenni slammed her fists down on the table and stopped laughing.  “No.  No I’m not done.”  She leaned forward in her seat.  “‘Cause see, what you’re asking me to do is stop somebody else from doing exactly what _I_ want to do.  I can’t take you shitcocks out from here.  They won’t give me computer privileges for _reasons_.  So my only joy is watching you go down when we can watch the fucking news.  I sit in the back and eat popcorn, and I fucking _laugh_.”

 

Sitara’s glare grew dangerous.  She leaned forward as well.  “See, I’ve never understood how you can be so smart, but such a fucking moron.  You can’t look at this and say that you condone it.  Whoever is fucking with us fired a missile into a _hospital._   There are kids who are dead, and if that’s something that you’re okay with, then I never want to see you try to take the righteous ground.”

 

Lenni glared.  “Kids?  No.  I’m not okay with it.  I just don’t give a flying fuck in space about _you_.”

 

Sitara sighed.  “We’re not even asking much.  We just want to know what Dusan knows.  We know you talked.  One of us is already dead because of this mess, and I am not about to lose anyone else.”

 

Lenni grew silent for a second before giving a smirk.  “Oooh.  Which one did they get?  The old man?  Bet he’s an easy target.  Or maybe sweet little Josh.  No, I bet you’d be more fucked up about that.  Did they get Marcus’ little masked boyfr-”

 

Sitara’s heeled foot came up under the table and hooked over the chain of Lenni’s cuffs, yanking her down until her chin cracked on the table.  Sitara kept her foot down and glared daggers through the other hacker.  “Listen to me, you piece of _shit_.  You think you’re all high and mighty and have the higher ground here, but you don’t.  You are a monster, a hypocrite, and you’re not worth my time.”

 

Lenni struggled against the chain, glancing up at the two way mirror and then the camera.

 

Sitara yanked her further down and harder into the table.  “Oh, you want someone to see and come help?  I’m your _attorney_ , Lenni.  Privileged conversation.  Nobody’s on the other side of that glass, and you’re sorely mistaken if you think that feed is catching any of this.  Unlike you, I don’t work alone, because I still have friends.”  She lifted her foot and freed Lenni from the table.  “Now rather than give me reasons to falsify evidence and make sure you never see the light of day or another computer _ever_ again, maybe take five seconds to hear my fucking offer.”

 

Lenni peeled herself off the table and sat back, rubbing her offended jaw.  “Oh this is an _offer_?  And here I thought it just an interrogation.”

 

“It can be.”

 

Lenni stared her down.  She glanced up at the clock and seemed to weigh her options.  Then she looked at the table.  “Out.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Out,” Lenni repeated.  “I’m not answering anything unless you can get me _out of here_.”

 

Sitara mulled it over.  “…If your answers help us end this, then you’ll be out when Dedsec is clear.”

 

Lenni hissed.  “Well I just don’t think that’s worth _my_ time.”

 

Sitara arched another brow at her and smirked.  “Your options are say nothing and never get out of jail, or speak and get out in a few weeks.  One of those options is significantly better than the other.”  She leaned forward again and looked down at the table.  “Probably _extremely_ better than the other.  You were working with Dusan.  Dusan is working with the _CIA_.  Once they’re done whatever they’re doing, they’ll purge all their outside sources.  And I’m pretty sure that means that you’ll be found hanging in your cell one fine day.”

 

The mention of the CIA brought Lenni pause.  She grew angrier as she thought about it and slammed her fists on the table again.  “That piece of fucking shit…”

 

Sitara tilted her head.  “Come on, Lenni.  You’re a ‘highest bidder’ kinda gal.  Right now, that’s me.  And all you have to do is tell me whatever you talked about with Dusan.”

 

Lenni eyed her carefully.  The air about Lenni changed when she was cornered.  She was sarcastic and callous when she thought she was in control, she was angry when things didn’t go her way— when she was in danger, she just looked tired.  Without the façade of amusement and power, it didn’t seem like prison was treating Lenni well.  “We didn’t even talk about much.”  She gave in, finally.  “Most of the stuff he knows about you he knows from when we worked together last time.  I gave him your names, some history…  But I didn’t give him everything.  I needed a bargaining chip.  I still needed it, so I kept my trap shut.”

 

“But if he already had our names, what was he talking to you about?  What more could you give him?”

 

Lenni sat back and stared at the wall.  “Yeah, I thought it was weird too.  I figured he was coming in to get the rest of the deets, but he didn’t even ask about you.  He asked about an old member of Prime_Eight.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Suzanne Katchadourian.”  Lenni answered with no hesitation.  “Suzie K.  She was with us back when I started this in school, but she fell out of touch after a while.  I think she went off to become some doctor or scientist, and I never bothered to look for her.  She was never a very active member.”

 

“Did you tell him anything?”  Stara asked.

 

Lenni shrugged at her.  “There was nothing to tell.  All he knew was that I had known her, and he wanted to know where she was.  I don’t even know if she’s still in the _country_.”

 

Sitara nodded.  There was a knock on the door, and a guard leaned in.  “Time, Ms. Bagheri.”

 

Sitara’s professional air returned.  “Yes of course.”  She stood up and laid her hand over one of Lenni’s slowly bruising ones.  “Don’t worry miss Kastner, we’ll be working on your case and you’ll be out soon.”

 

Sitara moved to leave, and Lenni’s chains were unlocked so she could stand.  “Hey- Ms. Uh… Bagheri?”

 

“Oh, Deeta.  Please.”

 

Lenni pursed her lips and gave a nod.  “Deeta.”  She took a breath.  “Whatever they want with her-… can you make sure she’s okay?  She didn’t exactly fight for my cause, but she never did anything wrong.  She doesn’t deserve whatever’s coming.”

 

Sitara watched her change in demeanour and tried to keep from looking surprised.  “Of course.  We’ll be in touch.”

 

~

 

Sitara nearly ripped the blazer off as she walked out of the prison and toward Marcus and his running motorcycle.  Marcus gave her a smile upon her return.  “That was the best piece of cinema I’ve ever seen.  Got that shit recorded.  I’m gonna watch that bitch hit that table on repeat.”

 

Sitara grinned at him.  “Fair enough.  But you heard what I promised her.  If we succeed, we’ve gotta bounce her.”

 

Marcus sighed.  “You’re killin’ my vibe, man.”

 

Sitara rolled the blazer up and parked herself on the back of the bike.  “That’s the price we pay.  Let’s get home, these pants are really uncomfortable.”

 

“Speaking of uncomfortable,” Marcus reached back and plunked a full helmet on her head, shutting the visor.  “Just in case.”

 

~

 

Josh was hard at work when they returned to HQ.  “Suzanne Katchadourian.”  He said aloud as Sitara and Marcus descended the stairs.

 

Marcus made it to the table first, leaning on the flat of it.  “Where is she?”

 

“Missing.”

 

Sitara sighed.  “I guess that’s to be expected.  That footage of Dusan was a few weeks old.”  She sat beside Josh and looked at the articles he’d pulled up.  “What does she do?”

 

“Scientist wins prize for unprecedented leap into the human mind, Doctor claims the science to see dreams, Stanford grad project to ‘read minds’ garners both backlash and praise, Doctor cancels own science experiment for the ‘good of humanity’.”  Josh rattled off the articles without taking a breath.

 

Marcus stared at it.  “What the fuck…?”

 

Sitara tugged the laptop toward her and opened up a few more things that Josh found.  “She’s a neurologist, a cognitive psychologist, _and_ a computer scientist?  Jesus Christ.”

 

“That is a trifecta of scary.”  Marcus narrowed his eyes at the screen.  “How the fuck does she even fit into this?”

 

“It’s the CIA.  We’ll never know.”  Josh said.

 

Marcus groaned.  “No.  We gotta know.  Backtrack and trace her steps.  See where she’s been, and see where she was last.  CIA or not, nobody is perfect.  They’re gonna slip up.”  Marcus stood up and patted Josh’s shoulders.  “You got this man.  You’re a boss.”

 

Josh sighed, staring at the articles on his screen.  “…I’m a boss.”  He pulled his laptop back to him.

 

“There ya go.”  Marcus stood up and took a deep breath.

 

Sitara hurried to the lockers and started rummaging for clothing, but she glanced at Marcus as he looked to the door.  “And where are you going?”

 

“To pick up any leads Josh drops.”

 

“Marcus-”

 

“You just walked into a _prison_ a few hours after your face hit the news as a person of interest in a missile hijacking.  I really don’t wanna hear no sass.”  Marcus crossed his arms.  “You did the heavy lifting this time.  Now it’s my turn again.”

 

Sitara sighed and rubbed her head in frustration.  “…Fine.  Just stay low and do not get spotted.  Keep your comm open.”  She gathered her clothes and took them away to get changed.

 

“I know, I know.”  He tugged out his phone and pulled up his map.  “All right Josh.  I’m gonna hit the streets.  Send me hotspots when you find them.”

 

“Start with Stanford.  You can ask about the questionable experiment and see if it was relevant to anything the CIA could use.  The article wasn’t very forthcoming.  Probably for a good reason.”

 

Marcus gave him a nod and tapped the table next to Josh with his knuckles.  “Word.  Keep me posted, man.”  Marcus began walking away.

 

Josh took a quick breath and spoke before he got too far.  “Wait…  Marcus?”

 

Marcus skidded to a stop.  “Yeah?”

 

Josh looked down at his hands as his fingers tapped at his palms.  “You-…  You’re my friend, so…  I know you’re really touchy with Sitara, and… you were with Wrench, and I want you to know that I don’t mind so much touching if it’s you guys.  So if you need to… hug me or something to feel better, you can.”

 

Josh sat in silence for long enough that he was starting to get scared that Marcus had walked away.  But then the arms came around him from behind and yanked him into a tight hug.  Marcus buried his face against Josh’s hood and squeezed his eyes shut.  “I been needing a lot of these…”

 

Josh managed a small smile, and he put his hands on Marcus’ arms.  “You can just ask.”

 

“Gonna be asking a lot.”  Marcus leaned his chin on Josh’s head and sighed, pulling away.  “Hey…  I know there’s a lot goin’ on right now.  You and Sitara are in the news, I’m probably next…”  He rubbed Josh’s shoulder.  “I know shit’s hit the fan, but I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.  Either of you.”

 

Josh pursed his lips and turned to look up at Marcus.  He barely met Marcus’ eyes and fought a twitch.  “I don’t want you to promise me that.”  He took another breath and his eyes found the floor.  “Not that I don’t think you mean it… but if I do get hurt, I don’t want you to think you’ve broken a promise.  Because whatever happens won’t be your fault.”  He turned away and went back to his laptop, getting back to his work.

 

Marcus gave a short, bitter laugh.  He reached over and let his hand land on Josh’s head.  “Thanks Josh.”

 

“Mmhm.”

 

~

 

Marcus benefitted from his sense of style.  He did pride himself, no matter what his friends said, about being able to pull off just about anything, and it allowed him to fill any roll he needed.  Even sans glasses, he fit the bill of a college student so well that he slipped in with a crowd of people and wasn’t even noticed by the guards when the computer didn’t register an ID for him.

 

“ _I was going to spoof an ID read for you,_ ” Josh said, sounding annoyed.

 

“Didn’t need it, man.  I got this.”  Marcus rounded a corner and tucked himself into an empty classroom.

 

Sitara snorted.  “ _It helps that everyone else looks just as hipster as you._ ”

 

Marcus gave and offended noise.  “Girl, I’ma fight you.”

 

“ _I can take you._ ”

 

“Yeah, no doubt.”  Marcus moved to the teacher’s desk and sat in front of the computer, rubbing his hands together.  “All right, Stanford.  Reveal your secrets.”  He plugged into the computer and booted it up.

 

“ _You should be able to get into everything from every computer.  They’re big on networking here and all the computers are linked.  You might need passwords._ ”  Josh lit up Marcus phone with a list.  “ _Those should be it.  I’m going to find more about your next stop._ ”

 

Marcus checked the list of passwords and laughed.  “One of these is seriously ‘password123’.  They gotta make this harder, man.”

 

Josh snorted as well.  “ _Good luck._ ”

 

Marcus set to work.  He moved through the system as fast as he could, collecting emails and documents and everything he could that had Katchadourian’s name on it.  He collected her student file, letters of recommendation, and at least one record of suspension for an experiment gone awry that shut down the power for two straight days.  He grinned to himself.  “Yeah, she seems the type to be snatched by Prime_Eight,” He mumbled to himself.

 

He eventually found a long thread of emails pertaining to her project.  It was between her and a professor with detailed descriptions of certain affects her experiment was having.  People losing their sense of reality, people having to be admitted to psych wards, and Suzanne was growing more and more concerned that she was heading down a dark path.

 

‘ _Dear Mrs. Abernathy,_

_Subjects 10 – 17 are showing abnormal amounts of negative responses to unrelated stimuli outside of the experiment and I am requesting a stay of due date until they’ve had time to recover._

_Thanks,_

_Suzanne Katchadourian_ ’

 

‘ _Dear Mrs. Abernathy,_

_Samuel Vega didn’t show up for his session today, and I discovered that he’s been admitted to the hospital with hallucinations.  I don’t know if this is related to the experiment, but I think it would be wise to be cautious about this with the other subjects._

_Thanks,_

_Suzanne Katchadourian_ ’

 

‘ _Dear Mrs. Abernathy,_

_In lieu of Abigail Cobb’s death, I cannot continue to run this experiment and am terminating it.  I will keep in touch when I have a new thesis project in the works._

_Sincerely,_

_Suzanne Katchadourian_ ’

 

Marcus gave a deep sigh.  None of this was getting him anywhere, and it wasn’t making the pieces fit together any easier.

 

Wrench would have had a conspiracy theory that might have been true.

 

Marcus winced and dropped his head to his hands.  Against his promise, he muted his audio back to HQ and rubbed at his eyes.  “…Dammit, Wrench… Of all the times your crazy theories would come in handy…  Fuck I miss you…”

 

He looked at the emails and the letters, and he tapped his fingers together.  “Where would you look next…?”  He eyed the final email from Suzanne about the experiment.  “…You’d look up the dead girl.  How did she die?”  He leaned back to the computer and brought up a browser, searching her name.

 

He flinched at the first result.

 

‘ _Stanford Student Jumps to Her Death from the Golden Gate Bridge_ ’

 

“Damn…”  He brought up the article and read it in depth.  “Abigail Cobb was a junior at Stanford U, studying psychology, blah blah blah…  …Family believes her mental decline began while taking part in a dream study at the school run by a fellow student who shall not be named… Why the fuck won’t any of these articles tell me what the fuck this Suzanne chick was doing?”

 

He brought up the emails again and began downloading everything he found.  He unmuted his comm.  “Hey guys.  I’ma hit up this Temperance Abernathy and see if I can get some info from her.  The school’s probably wiped any real evidence of the experiment to keep their noses clean.”

 

“ _Or to keep someone from trying to replicate it,_ ” Came Sitara’s response.

 

“ _Sending you her address now,_ ” Josh said.

 

As Marcus’ phone pinged, he finished his download of the data.  He stood up and brushed his shirt flat, unplugged everything and tucking it away.  He left the room as if he hadn’t been there at all.

 

~

 

HQ was too quiet.  Sitara parked herself next to Josh, sighing and staring off at a piece of art she’d completed just before the party.  She’d been happy then.  She was starting to forget what it was like to be happy.

 

She leaned back against Josh’s table and listened to him work.  There was nothing for her to do now.  She was running a facial recognition for the man in the suit, but she couldn’t do anything until it came up with a result.  “This is crazy.”  She mused.

 

Josh barely paused his typing.  “This is significantly worse than anything we’ve ever had to deal with.”

 

Sitara turned to face him, giving his arm a nudge.  “Are you okay?”

 

That’s when Josh stopped typing.  His lips pursed and he drew a breath in through his nose.  “It’s…  I seem to be okay until somebody asks me if I’m okay…”  He closed his eyes.  “Then it all comes back and I over-focus, and-” He stopped himself.  “It still doesn’t feel real.  I’ve been in danger, but I’ve never been named before.  I miss Wrench.  I’m scared for Marcus.  I’m scared for you.  I don’t know where Ray is.  I don’t know what else to do but this.”

 

Sitara leaned her head on his shoulder so he could continue working.  “This is good.  Your focus is better than all of ours combined, and we wouldn’t be able to do this without you.”  She sighed.  “And I’m not okay either.  I think I stopped really being okay the day Horatio died…  Everything that’s happened now was just a reminder not to let my guard down, or waste any time.”  She narrowed her eyes at the far wall.  Then she sat up.  “…I think I need to talk to you.”

 

Josh paused and looked at the table.  “You are talking to me.”

 

“No, about something specific.”  SItara turned her chair to face Josh.  “I know you like to be cut and dry about things, but my head doesn’t really work that way.  Mostly because I don’t even know what’s in here right now…”

 

“Would you like to draw me something?”

 

Sitara’s brow dipped in confusion.  “What?”

 

Josh turned to her.  “If you can’t say it, I mean.  You can draw it.  You know how to get a message across with pictures.  I can’t do that.  Maybe it’s easier for you to talk with art than words.”  He wringed his hands in his lap for a moment.  “I’ve gotten better at knowing what you mean.  I think.”

 

Sitara stared at him for a while.  Before she could open her mouth to respond, her computer began to beep incessantly and drew her attention away.  “Oh.  _Shit._ ”  She leapt from her chair and threw herself at the table.  “We got a hit on the suit!”

 

Josh pushed away from his computer and hurried to her side.  “Where?”

 

“ _Did I hear that right?_ ”  Marcus’ voice carried around the room from their radio.

 

Sitara’s eyes widened just a bit, and she glanced at the radio.  “How long have you been there?”

 

Marcus laughed with a hint of teasing.  “ _Uh, the whole time?  Open comms, remember?  You got me on a short leash._ ”

 

Sitara glanced at the floor.  “Right.”

 

“Guys?  We should probably care about this.”  Josh pointed at the laptop when he pulled the feed up.

 

Sitara stared at the parking lot of the building she’d left just a few hours ago.  “Fuck, _fuck,_ Marcus how far are you from the women’s prison?”

 

Marcus was silent.  “ _…Five minutes._ ”

 

“Get there.  Get there right now.  God dammit…”  Sitara sat in the chair by the computer and pulled up as many feeds from the prison as she could.  “Marcus.  We have to jump ahead.  We gotta bust Lenni out _now_.”

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I am super sorry for another Wrench-less chapter. I promise he's coming back, I just can't rush things. But hey, at least I posted before 3 am. 8P


	7. Out of the Frying Pan

Lenni pushed the laundry cart into the laundry room with a grunt.  As much as she didn’t want Dedsec to gain any sympathy from the public again, their success would mean her freedom.

 

But what if it didn’t?

 

She glared at the machine as she shovelled the linens in.  Would Dedsec keep their promise?  Or was Sitara just grilling her for information just to neglect her in the end?  She swung out and kicked the bottom of the washer.  “Fuck!”

 

“Hey!”  The guard at the door stared her down.  “Take it easy, or you go back to your cell.”

 

Lenni glared back.  “ _Sorry._ ”  She gave him a little bow and continued tossing linens into the washer.  Once it was loaded, she shut the door and turned on the machine.

 

Her other concern was the threat of the CIA.  Dusan hadn’t mentioned it at all when they’d spoken, but he hadn’t really been forthcoming about his reason for what he wanted to know about Suzanne either.  Lenni hated being messed with by Dedsec, but she also hated being lied to.  She wasn’t a fan of Dusan’s willingness to put her in danger for something she didn’t even get to be involved in either.  As soon as she got out, whether with Dedsec’s help or otherwise, that guy’s ass was grass.

 

The lights flickered, and the washer stopped.  Lenni groaned.  “Oh come the fuck on.”  She hit the button again in an attempt to get it to go again.  It refused.  She turned to the guard.  “This washer’s dead.”

 

The guard smirked at her.  “Looks like you’re loading the next one down then.”

 

Lenni snarled.  She yanked the door open and groaned at the state of the linens, now damp from the attempted cycle.  “Mother fucker…”  She kneeled in to start pulling out sheets.

 

The guard suddenly gave pained, frozen grunt.  Lenni listened to him writhe, and it was followed by the telltale sign of him hitting the ground.  She stood up and stared.  The guard was unconscious.  Somehow, no one had seen anything.  As a power box on the wall sparked and sputtered, she realised that it wasn’t any accident.  She’d seen it before.

 

The man’s phone was beeping.  Carefully, Lenni made her to him and pulled the phone out of his pocket.

 

‘ _Ear Piece.  Taser._ ’  Said a text on its display.

 

Lenni smirked and tugged the ear piece from the man’s head, putting it on.  “Is this the cavalry?”  She asked, arming herself.

 

“ _As much as I wanna be sarcastic with you, you gotta move._ ”  Marcus said into her ear.

 

Lenni went tense, and her grip tensed on the gun.  “Why?”

 

“ _You ain’t noticed that you’re the only one working?  Only one in the hall?  Everybody else is locked down, and they’re comin’ for you.  Get out that door and go right.  Sitara and Josh have got your way out.  I’ve got your ride._ ”

 

Lenni took a deep breath and cursed.  “Fuck, fuck, fuckshit, _fuck_ …  All right.  Okay.”

 

“ _Out and right, Lenni!_ ”

 

“Got it!  Shit!”  Lenni made for the door.

 

~

 

Marcus focus was laser straight.  He had tunnel vision as he weaved through the streets.  Traffic had him delayed, but he never let anyone stay in his way too long.  The suit was in the front offices of the woman’s prison.  Marcus was inches away from answers and revenge.  He didn’t know whether or not he was breathing.  He didn’t care.

 

“ _We’ve got you a way into through a back door.  The CIA locked down most rooms, so all inmates and most of the guards are trapped wherever they are.  But that could change._ ”  Josh’s voice was nervous.  “ _Be careful, Marcus.  This is the CIA._ ”

 

“I know.  And they’re goin’ down like everybody else they pit against us.”  Marcus pulled his car up by the back fence of the prison and eyed the yard.  He found a corner of fence near the treeline that had been cut efficiently and peeled back.  “I got some busted fences back here.”

 

“ _Yeah, our suit went in the front, all smiles and professionalism.  He had a crew go in the back.  There are a bunch of dead guards… God, there are a few dead prisoners too…_ ”  SItara sounded scared.

 

“Do you still have eyes on Lenni?”

 

“ _Yes.  I had to lead her to an empty supply closet, but she’s stuck there until you clear her way out._ ”

 

Marcus nodded and marched up the unmanned grounds, heading for a door that was being propped open with a brick.  “How ‘bout the suit?”

 

Sitara was quiet.  “ _…Marcus there are like… four heavily armed agents in there looking for Lenni.  There are seven prison guards still loose in the halls, you can’t risk going through all of them._ ”

 

Marcus drew his weapon as he moved through the doors, making sure they were still propped open.  “I’m not leaving without getting to him first, Sitara, I can’t do it.”

 

Sitara roared.  “ _You will die if you get near him, Marcus!  You get Lenni out and you go!  We’ll facial rec his ass back to where he’s going and get him later!_ ”

 

Marcus squeezed his eyes shut and punched a wall.  He leaned against it and took a breath.  Then he sighed.  “If I get the shot, I’m taking it.”

 

“ _Damn you, Holloway!_ ”

 

Marcus pulled his mask up and marched inside.  He checked his phone to look at the feeds.  “Yo Lenni, you there?”

 

“ _You fuckwits better have a fucking plan…_ ”

 

“ _Lenni, a guard just left the hall,_ ” Said Sitara, sounding tired.  “ _Leave the closet and go left, I’ve got you an open cell to hide in._ ”

 

There was the sound of a door opening as Lenni did as she was told.  “ _Which way!?_ ”

 

“ _Another l_ _eft!  Just before the kitchens!_ ”

 

Marcus moved through the halls as quietly as he could.  He hacked his way through the security doors, both of which were unmanned.  He could hear people pounding on doors to get out, and women were shouting from the other sides.  He peered around a corner and saw prison guard trying to open a sealed door, probably where he companions were trapped.  Marcus took aim and took her out with his taser.  “Probably best if you’re out for this part.”  He hefted her from under her shoulders and dragged her into a nearby hallway, finding an open closet and closing her in it.  “One down guys.  Exit just got clearer.”

 

He moved further on.  The halls were disturbingly empty.  He took out another guard, moving his unconscious body out of the way and hurrying past the empty general population.  He could see the heavier armed forces across the hall closer to where Lenni would be traveling.  He winced and ducked away.  He dipped into another hallway and looked through some of the feeds.  “Lenni’s way’s freed up a bit, but I dunno about sending her past that main room.  Too many CIA guys.  Sneaking her past them isn’t the best plan.  She's not the most inconspicuous person.”

 

“ _Hey, you fuckasses maybe wanna not talk about Lenni like Lenni’s not listening?_ ”  Lenni’s voice was hushed.

 

“Woman, that was not a slight at you.  But you aren’t exactly one for head on combat or stealth, and I’m not about to let you get killed ‘cause you’ve got an ego,” Marcus fired back.

 

“ _There’s a maintenance hall three doors down from Lenni’s location.  It’s locked off and has two guards stuck inside._ ”  Josh was heard typing at something.  “ _I can open the doors, but you’ll have to deal with the guards inside.  They don’t know that this is CIA, so they’ll think it’s you doing all this._ ”

 

Marcus made his way up a set of stairs and hung around the corner, checking his feed.  The maintenance door was a turn away.

 

“ _Lenni, your way got clear again,_ ” Sitara said.  “ _Marcus, get to the other door.  Check the feed.  As soon as the doors open, you have to act.  Lenni, are you a good shot?_ ”

 

“ _Hell no._ ”

 

“Well try to be,” Marcus interrupted, watching the feed like he was told.  “Looks like they’re each on a door, so you gotta get one of them.”

 

“ _Oh, no fucking pressure there._ ”

 

“ _Get to your door, Lenni!_ ”  It was Josh who finally shouted at her.  There was an awkward pause.  “ _Y-… You’re running out of time._ ”

 

Lenni sighed.  “… _Okay.  Okay, I’m going._ ”

 

Marcus made his way to the door and pulled out his monkey fist, swinging it a few times to test the weight of it.  “Ready Josh?”

 

“ _Go._ ”

 

“The doors clicked.  Lenni made a noise.  As soon as the door opened, Marcus grabbed the collar of the surprised guard, yanking him to the ground and knocking him once in the face with a grunt of effort.

 

The guard at the second door barely registered that hers had opened and drew her weapon, pointing it in Marcus’ direction.  “Hey-!”

 

Her words ceased.  They were replaced with the strangled noises of someone caught in a current.  Her muscles seized and she dropped to the floor.  Lenni gasped and dropped the weapon as soon as she did.

 

Marcus snorted and stood up straight.  “Not bad for point blank range.”

 

Lenni glared at him.  “Shut up.”

 

Marcus rolled his eyes and waved her in.  “Come on, come on.”

 

She ran in and looked back down the hallway.  “How clear is it?  Am I good?”

 

“You follow Sitara’s lead and you find my car.  It’s just past the fence, and once you’re in, you stay down until I get back.  Once they know you ain’t in here, they’ll keep searching.”

 

“ _Marcus,_ ” Sitara warned.

 

Lenni narrowed her eyes.  “Where the fuck are you going?”

 

Marcus pushed his taser into her hands since she abandoned hers, and a few charges.  “Suit hunting.”  He walked past her.

 

Lenni watched him go and backed away down the hall.

 

Marcus kept walking.

 

Sitara gave a yell of rage.  “ _Marcus, what did I fucking say!?_ ”

 

Marcus rounded out into the hallway.  “Get Lenni out of here!  Josh can watch my six, and I’m gonna get the suit, where the hell is he?”

 

“ _He’s in the interview room at the other side of the prison, first floor,_ ” Josh answered.

 

“ _Josh!_ ”  Sitara was incredulous.

 

“ _He won’t listen to us tell him to turn around, the only thing we can do is help him.  Yelling at him isn’t doing anything._ ”  Josh sighed.  “ _Besides, I kind of want to see him dead, too._ ”

 

Marcus brought up the feeds and flipped through until he found the suit.  He was sitting at one of the tables, leaned back in the chair with his feet on the table.  He was flipping through a magazine.  Marcus felt his chest swell with hatred and fire.  This guy was going down if it was the last thing he did.

 

Marcus moved to the other side of the second floor and checked the stairwell— Empty.  He descended, peering through the feed at the other side of the door.  One of the CIA agents was right outside, gun poised and ready to take out a threat.  He idly heard Sitara giving rushed directions to Lenni in his ear, but he blanked them out.  He couldn’t focus on anything but the job at hand.

 

He pulled the door open and through the rope of the fist around the man’s neck, yanking him to the floor and swinging it at the man’s head before he could react.  He’d felt the man’s muscles contracted beneath him, faster than any other guard or gang member he’d ever dealt with, but he was still out.  Marcus knew now if he hesitated now for even a second, he was a dead man.  These people knew what they were doing.  They were trained killers.

 

It was how they got Wrench after all.

 

The fire in his grew larger, and he checked the feeds ahead of him.  Only one other rogue CIA guy between him and his target, who was only two security halls away.

 

“ _Marcus!_ ”  Sitara was suddenly shrieking in his ear.

 

Marcus growled.  “Fuck, what!?”

 

“ _Get back to Lenni right now!  An agent circled around and they’re about to be on top of her!_ ”

 

“Keep her hiding then!  I’m almost done!”  Marcus checked the visitor room feed.  The suit was checking his watch.

 

Sitara took a breath.  “ _She doesn’t have that kind of time._ ”

 

~

 

Lenni was terrified.  She’d tucked herself into the final security room, where one guard had been shot between the eyes by the CIA team when they had entered.  She was under the desk, legs drawn up to her chest as she tried to keep her breathing steady.  She couldn’t hear anything from outside the room, but she knew someone was out there.  Waiting.

 

“Guys…” She whispered over the comm.  “Guys…?  Is anybody there…?”

 

A whistling filled her ear.  She winced and yanked the comm out, throwing it on the ground.  Were they being squelched?  Who had done that?

 

The footsteps returned.  Lenni gasped, jerking back into the wall.  “Oh god…”

 

The agent walked through the door.  Lenni’s mouth opened to scream, and her hands came up with her taser.   It was kicked out of her hands before she should even fire.  The agent shook his head at her.  “Nice try.”  He pointed his weapon at her head.

 

A gun went off, and the side of the man’s head blew out, dropping him to the floor like a bag of bricks.  Marcus rounded the corner with his weapon still aimed and kicked the gun away from the man.  Lenni collapsed against the wall with a shriek of relief.  “Jesus _fuck!_ ”  She sobbed.

 

Marcus held his hand out to her to help her up.  “Come on, we gotta go.” Marcus sounded cold.  He pulled up the feed of the visitor’s room and watched the suit stand, straighten his tie, and step out of view.

 

They rushed out of the last doors and beelined across the yard, heading straight for the cut fence.  Marcus let Lenni through first and did the same at the second fence.  The car was unlocked before they even got to it.  Marcus swung himself into his seat and gunned it as soon as Lenni was situated.

 

“ _Marcus, you’ve got cops searching the area.  You’ve gotta get off their radar,_ ” Sitara’s voice was careful.  She knew what Marcus just gave up.

 

“Got it.”  He raced away from the prison, and the sirens grew louder.

 

Lenni watched behind them.  “They’re gaining, Marcus, do something!”

 

“You better hang on.”  Marcus pressed the gas and jerked the steering wheel to the left.  The car drifted around a bend and sped into the city.

 

Lenni clung to the bar over the passenger door and the side of the seat.  She swallowed a lump in her throat, and Marcus ripped around another corner.  “Holy _shit!_ ”  She shrieked again.

 

“Man, these tires are complaining less than you!”  Marcus yelled, taking another sharp turn and once again squealing the tires to make a point.

 

Lenni groaned and glared at him.  “You’re driving like you wanna kill us!”

 

“I’m driving like this so they _don’t_ kill us!”  He rounded another corner toward the highway.

 

Lenni balked.  “That road is one long strip!  We’ll be caught in seconds!”

 

“We ain’t takin’ the highway.”  Last minute, before the onramp, Marcus jerked the wheel.  The car ramped into the grass and rumbled over the uneven ground.  Once the ramp grew high enough, Marcus turned them under it and slammed on the breaks.  They jerked forward.  He put the car in reverse and tucked them away further under the overpass, shutting off the car and turning out the headlights.  “Get down.”  He ordered, pulling up his phone and leaving up his radar.

 

Lenni did as she was told and watched the radar with short breaths.

 

They sat like that for a while.  Marcus had one hand on the wheel, and another on the ignition, and he waited.  The radar was alight with police, but none of them seemed to be thinking of checking under the overpass.

 

The silence was getting to Lenni.  Marcus looked cold and quiet.  She was used to him looking frustrated.  She was used to loud emotions.  Subtle rage in Marcus was the scariest thing she’d ever seen, and that was on par with her staring down the barrel of a gun aimed at her by a CIA agent.  She watched the surface of the dashboard.  “…I didn’t hear your mask friend,” She finally said.  She watched Marcus’ fists grow tight.  “…That’s who they got, isn’t it?”

 

Marcus’ eyes closed for a few seconds.  “His name… was Wrench.”

 

Lenni went back to watching the dashboard.  “Right…”  The silence continued.  Lenni let it.  More things were making sense now.

 

The radar stopped flashing.  The feed from the hacked police frequencies quoted their inability to find them.  The police were leaving.

 

Marcus and Lenni were clear.

 

~

 

They met with Sitara and Josh on the third level of a parking garage near the edge of the city.  Josh’s fingers were tense around a plastic bag full of items, and Sitara had some articles of clothing draped over her arm.

 

When Lenni exited the car, Sitara smirked at her.  “Wow.  Orange is definitely your colour.”

 

Lenni sneered at her.  “Shut the fuck up.”

 

“Is that anyway to thank the people who kept you alive?”  Sitara asked, still teasing.

 

Lenni didn’t immediately respond.  She made her way over to Sitara and took the clothing as it was handed to her.  “Thank you.”  The words were pointed and meaningful, like they weren’t just referring to the clothes.

 

Marcus leaned against the still-running car.  “You can have this ride.  You’ll have to ditch it somewhere in the next city, but you gotta get the fuck outta Cali.  We can let you know when it’s safe to come back, but if you show up before, these fucks _will_ kill you.”

 

Josh took a nervous step forward and held the bag out to her.  “ID.  Credit card.  Tooth brush and toothpaste.”  Lenni took the bag.  Josh’s gaze remained on the ground.  “Your name is Sylvia now.  You might want to stay out of black lights.”

 

Lenni smirked at him.  “Aren’t you sweet, so concerned about me.”  She tried to laugh and sound snarky, but her focus found the ground as well.  She sighed.  “I don’t know why you guys wasted time saving my ass.  You didn’t have to, but you did.  I owe you one.  _Just_ … one.”  She held a finger up.  Then she looked up.  “So I’m gonna give it to you now so you can’t try to cash it later.”

 

“What have you got?”  Sitara asked, crossing her arms.

 

Lenni fluffed out the shirt she was given and gave it a once over.  “I didn’t lie to you earlier.  Dusan talked to me about where Suzanne might have been, but I didn’t tell you why she might have been wanted by the CIA.”

 

Marcus pushed himself away from the car.  “…You know what her experiment was about.”

 

“I watched some of it happen.”  Lenni refolded the clothes and tucked her new supplies under her arm.  “When she was a junior, she’d figured out a way to view a brain’s imagination.  She was trying to see if she could record dreams.”  She sighed.  “Her _senior_ project was trying to put images back into the brain the same way.  To create dreams.  People started not knowing what was real, and what was not.  That one chick killed herself Inception style.”  She shook her head.  “If the CIA wanted her, they probably wanted to use her research for brainwashing techniques or some shit.”

 

Something in Marcus’ eyes lit up as a missing piece clicked in his head.  Lenni waved at them and got into the car.  Sitara moved to Marcus’ side and punched him in the shoulder.  Marcus didn’t respond.  Her hand then dipped to hold his.  Josh came to his other side and took his other hand.

 

Lenni reversed alongside them and rolled the window down.  “Hey… I’m sorry about Wrench.  Nobody deserves to go like that.”  She turned her attention forward and shifted the car into drive.  “Take ‘em out.  You better not have made me give my info to a bunch of losers.”  She finally smirked at them again.

 

Marcus barely managed a smile.  “You’re a fugitive, Lenni, get the fuck outta here.”

 

Lenni wiggled her fingers at them in a mocking wave and drove away.

 

Marcus’ stolen hands gripped their captors tight.

 

Sitara rubbed his arm.  “I’m sorry I made you leave the suit… But we would have lost Lenni, and I know we would have lost you, too…”

 

Marcus shook his head.  “No, you were right… Lenni almost died, and we wouldn’t have gotten that stuff on Suzanne.  And I was going in pretty blind.  That suit’s probably way too skilled for me to handle.  I need to listen to you more often.”

 

Sitara smiled gently at him.  “Damn right, you do.”

 

Marcus’ gaze dipped to the ground.  “…Let’s get home.  This isn’t over.  I think I know what’s going on.”

 

~

 

Dusan stared down the window to the medical room that held Wrench, hands in his pockets.  He felt uneasy.

 

A hand clapped on his shoulder, and a dangerously jovial looking Greenwood was there, swinging an arm around him. “You ready to go again?”

 

Dusan ignored the question.  “Did you get the hacker?  Is she dead?”

 

Greenwood’s grip tightened on Dusan.  “No.  You seem to have been right about Marcus being a problem child.  But it’s still not a big deal.  None of these players know anything important enough to be any real threat.”

 

Dusan winced again.  “You need to kill him.  You don’t understand how much trouble he is.  It’s not worth him delaying you any further-  Ah!”  Greenwood’s fingers dug into Dusan’s shoulder, making his back arch.  Dusan dropped his knees.

 

Greenwood’s startling grin never left his face.  “See, this is starting to sound like dissent, Nemec.”  He squeezed harder under Dusan was lying prone on the ground in pain.  “For this plan to work, I need Marcus alive.  He’s got to be the face of everything that’s about to happen, and he’s walking into every little trap I lay for him.  I will give you that he’s succeeding far more than I expected, but that’s just as well.  His crimes are clearer now.”  He let go of Dusan and stood back up, looking into the room.

 

Dusan panted as he heaved himself to sit up.  He forced himself to stand and glare at Greenwood.

 

Greenwood straightened out his blazer.  “Marcus is at the head of the hacker group that bombed a hospital.  Marcus broke another hacker out of prison and murdered a few guards to do it.”  He kept his attention on the currently unconscious blond lying on the bed in the room.  Next to him, at a wheeled in table sat a nervous looking woman in a labcoat.  She looked exhausted and was gripping her head as she waited for Dusan to return.  “All we have to do is wait for this one to give up the location of their home base, and we can spoof any attack, any correspondence, any information we want.  Dedsec will go down for starting a war.  We will reap the benefits.  You’ll be touted as a hero again, I know you just love that.”  He cracked his neck a bit.  “And we at the CIA will have new allies.  Those allies will trade me funds for secrets.”

 

“…That’s a long way to go for self-preservation,” Dusan said, cautiously.

 

Greenwood beamed at him.  “You didn’t seem to have a problem with it when the planned got you out of jail.”  He pushed open the door of the room and held out an arm.  The woman at the table flinched, but she opened up hr programs and got ready anyway.  “Now… are you ready to go again?”

 

Dusan watched Greenwood’s face for some time before sighing deeply and turning back to the room.  “Yeah.  I’m ready.”  He walked inside.  Greenwood shut the door behind him and walked away, the bright smile never leaving his face.

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the day off and was on a roll today, so have another chapter! 8D At almost three AM again because I have a problem! 8'D


	8. Into the Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extreme violence warning kicks in officially in this chapter! If you don't handle blood or torture well, proceed with caution.

Wrench’s vision was blurry.  There was pain that spread across his chest and arms, and his head felt like it was exploding.  He was conscious again.  He was starting to hate consciousness, because all that meant was that he would be in pain soon.  But the pain was worth it.  The longer he held out, the more time the others had to work on taking these guys down.  He would never give them what they wanted, even if it killed him.

 

It felt like he’d been in there for years.  His body was covered with bruises and needle marks and gashes that had all been treated, but he could still feel every single wound like it had just been made.  Dusan had been thorough that way.  The only area Dusan didn’t try to wound was his face.  He hadn’t wanted to mess with something Wrench already found repulsive.  Instead, Dusan drove sharp objects into joints, or put cigarettes he didn't even smoke out on his skin.  Then he asked Wrench about the location of their HQ.

 

Dusan never waited for him to try to answer, even though Wrench never planned on doing so.  The longer it went on, the more Wrench realised what was happening.  A woman who sat at a computer at his bedside would comment on images she was getting, and how they were all unhelpful and not what they were looking for.

 

Dusan was trying to force Wrench to _think_ about how to get home.  He was trying to force him to think his way back to his family, and they were pulling the images out of his head.  They were trying to read his mind.

 

The door opened.

 

As the head of his bed was slowly raised upward, he drew in a deep, exhausted breath.  He had to be ready again.  Dusan swam into his vision, head tilted slightly with a small smug grin in place as he closed the blinds to the room.  “Good morning, Wrench.”  He sat in a chair on the opposite side of the woman and patted his leg.  “Are you gonna be a little more transparent today?”

 

Wrench glared at him.  “F-… Fuck you…”

 

Dusan pursed his lips into a disappointed smile.  “I guess not.”  He stood up and leaned down close to his face.  “You’ll give them up one day.  I just wish it would be sooner rather than later because you keep getting blood on my favourite shirts.”

 

“S-Sound just awful for you,” Wrench said, feeling like a deflated balloon.

 

Dusan stared him down and tugged the table full of his tools over to him.  “You know, you’re alarmingly sturdy for a guy who’s supposed to be cripplingly shy.  I figured I push a few buttons, and you’d fold like a cardboard box, but,” Dusan lifted a scalpel and examined it.  “You’ve faced everything I’ve done to you this month, and I haven’t even seen you cry.  I was _so hoping_ I could get you to cry once.  Guess I’m going to have to keep trying.”  He yanked the sheet off of Wrench, revealing the loose pants he’d been changed into (his last three pairs were full of holes and bloodied), and a Jackson Pollock painting of wounds and scars over his various tattoos.

 

Wrench stared at the scalpel like it was an old friend.  As Dusan looked him over and tried to decide on a limb to tear into, Wrench began to laugh.

 

Dusan arched a brow at him.  “Oh you’re feeling humoured today?”

 

Wrench’s laugh slowed as he coughed weakly.  “It’s just… f-fucking funny how you looked at me and decided that pain was gonna make me talk.”  He leaned up fast and suddenly, arms yanking back as they caught on where they were zip-tied to the sides of the bed.  “I started getting t-tattoos when I was really young.  Stick and poke here and there, seedy back alley ones from artists that couldn’t work in shops.  I’ve got so many blown out tattoos with rough edges.  I did a few of them myself when I thought the artists were being too careful.  D-Do you know why?”

 

Dusan looked vaguely intrigued.  “Oh, do tell.”

 

Wrench slowly sat back.  “To prepare myself for assholes like you.  The more I h-hurt, the better everything else feels.  S-So what you’re doing?  You’re actually helping me.  Good fucking job dropping the goddamn ball again, Dusan!  I’d uh… c-clap, but.”  He yanked his hands up as far as they would go.  He grinned at him.  “All tied up.  Feel free to keep going.”

 

Dusan shrugged.  “And how do you know I won’t just kill you?  Since you’re so sure you’ll never talk, I may as well just cut to the chase.”  He spun the scalpel about his fingers like he was twirling a pen.

 

Wrench snorted.  “Oh please.”  He shifted a bit to get comfortable again and stared Dusan down.  “They guy in the hall?  Those men… with the armour?  They were too decked out to be cops.  Too good to be FBI…  I’m in some underg-ground hospital room with no windows except the one that leads out into the hall, and I’m being t-tortured for information.  This is some CIA level bullshit, and if you had _permission_ to kill me, you’d have done weeks ago.  Let’s b-be real.”  He coughed to clear his dry throat.  They’d not given him a drink in two days.  “So let’s just get back to it s-shall we…?”

 

Dusan’s stare was disturbingly empty, but Wrench met it for every second it was on him.  Then Dusan roared and slammed his fist into Wrench’s upper thigh, driving the scalpel in as deep as it would go.  Wrench’s scream echoed down the hallway and made the woman at the desk jump.  She closed her eyes.  Dusan jerked the scalpel sideways, and Wrench felt something snap under his skin, wedging the blade into the muscle and leaving it there.  The hilt of the blade pulled out, and Dusan dug his thumb into the wound.  Wrench writhed and jerked his head back, slamming it into the pillows as he tried to stifled his voice.  Dusan’s smiled returned.  “Oh look at that.  You’re going to live.”  He removed his offending thumb and patted Wrench’s leg right over the wound.  “I’ll let you sit with that for a bit, huh?  And then I want you to think about Marcus.  Dear, sweet Marcus, who has no idea where you are, or even that you’re still alive.  Then, I want you to think about everything I’ve done to you.”  He stood up and straightened out his shirt.  “Do you think Marcus could handle it as well as you can?”

 

Wrench, breathing heavy and boring holes through Dusan with his eyes, snapped forward against the zipties, trying to dig his teeth into his arm.  Dusan stepped back with a note of shock, but the grin eventually returned.  “Oh so _that’s_ what I have to do to get to you…  I gotta say, Wrench.  For as little as you’ve given me about Dedsec’s whereabouts, you’ve certainly given me a lot of information about _you_.”  He turned to the woman in the chair.  “I’ll be back in an hour.  Keep that thing going.”  He eyed Wrench again.  “I think you need to need to have a long think about your plans from here out.  We’ve got eyes everywhere.  Marcus isn’t as slick as he thinks, and we will find him.  If you haven’t told us what we want to know before he’s here, it’s too late for him.  My ‘bosses’,” He gave air quotes, “Aren’t very patient.”

 

Wrench watched Dusan leave.  With a grunt of rage, he pulled against the ties again.  “I will _kill you!_  If you fucking touch him, I will _FUCKING KILL YOU!_ ”

 

The door shut between them.  Wrench threw himself back against the bed and growled as the small blade shifted in his leg.  “ _Fuck!_ ”

 

The woman swallowed a lump in her throat and tried to focus on the screen, anywhere but on Wrench and his bleeding leg.

 

Wrench turned to her for what seemed like the thousandth time that month and took a shaky breath.  He’d never tried to speak to the woman before.  At first, he figured she was working with them, but as the weeks wore on, he realised that she was simply _compliant_.

 

Today, with the threat to Marcus burning an imprint at the forefront of his mind, he couldn’t just let her sit there and say nothing.  He had to know what she was to them.  “…What’s… you’re name?”  Wrench asked, forcing his words out through the pain.

 

The woman went tense.  Then she dipped her head to hide behind the screen.

 

Wrench flinched and hissed as he tried to shift his leg.  It sent fire through him in protest, and he tried to breathe slowly through his nose.  He stared up at the ceiling.  “…I need… I need a doctor.  Are you a doctor?  A-Are you the-… the one who patches me up when he’s d-done?”

 

“I’m not supposed to talk to you.”  Her answer was short— rehearsed— and she didn’t look at him.

 

Wrench took a deep, staggered breath.  The woman was too fearful of this place.  He really didn’t blame her.  “…Can I have… water?”  He licked at his lips.  “If I don’t get water soon I’m g-gonna die…  You’re not supposed to let- hng!... L-Let that happen, right?”

 

The woman finally glanced at him and stared.  Her eyes were wide and rabbit-like.  Her lips were tight and nervous.  Then she stood.  “I’ll get you some water…”  She moved to the door and left quickly.  She seemed rushed, like she wasn’t allowed to be out of there long.

 

That meant that Wrench didn’t have a lot of time.  Wrench swallowed hard and turned his head to bury his face into the pillow he was given, biting down.  He forced his stabbed leg to lean closer to his hand until he could reach the wound.  He brushed the entrance of it, and he gave a sharp sob of effort as he forced his fingers in.  He couldn’t waste any time.

 

His screams of agony were muffled by the pillow.  He couldn’t think about how deep the blade was; all he could do was focus on his task.  His fingers, shaking from the pain, found the broken edge of the blade.  With one last roar of effort, he caught the blade between his fingers and ripped it out.

 

His breathing was haggard.  He allowed himself a few seconds more of biting down on the pillow before letting go and looking at his prize.  The small blade glinted red between his equally bloody fingers.  He shifted it around until he had a better grip and set to work rubbing the sharp edge against the zip-tie.  The table of tools wasn’t too far.  If he could free one hand, he could grab something better to free the rest of his limbs.

 

It was only minutes, but it felt like hours.  Wrench’s fingers had slipped a few times and dragged across the sharp blade, but he would resituate and press on.  He watched the door in unmitigated terror until there was a telltale snap of plastic separating from itself.  Wrench lifted his arm, and it tugged free of its broken bindings. He lurched forward and slammed his hand on the edge of the rolling table of tools, yanking it toward him and finding a larger serrated blade, taking it to his other bindings.

 

The ties dropped to the ground, and Wrench yanked the sensors off of his head.  He swung his legs over the edge of with a hiss of pain.  He put pressure on his feet and nearly collapsed, bracing himself on the bed and the table.

 

He had to keep going.  He couldn’t stop now.  He grunted and forced himself to stand, limping on his bad leg and yanking another small scalpel from the table.  He moved towards the door and leaned against the wall next to the hinge of it.  He waited.

 

The door swung open slowly.  The woman walked in a few steps, but immediately screeched to a halt when she saw the bed empty and the pool of blood.  She followed the trail toward the door, but Wrench’s arm was around her neck before she could react.  A bottle of water dropped to the floor and emptied its contents.  Wrench kept her in a hold.  “Do you know how to get out of here?”  He asked, holding the scalpel to her throat.

 

The woman trembled in his hold, but she nodded.  “T-There’s an elevator down the hall that leads up…  But you c-can’t just walk through the lobby, it’s full of agents…!”

 

“I’ll figure something out.”  Wrench peeked out through the blinds.  “Anybody else in the hall?”

 

The woman shook her head.  “No.  Nobody.”  She bit her lip and shifted her head to look at him.  “Are you going to kill me?”

 

“Not if you don’t give me a reason to.”

 

The woman breathed in slowly and sighed.  “If you don’t, they will…”  She looked at the floor.  “I’m Suzanne.  Suzanne Katchadourian.”  She sounded like she was only saying her name so that someone would know it.

 

Wrench’s grip on her didn’t loosen, but the position of his blade shifted away from anything vital.  “…Just Wrench.  But you knew that.”

 

Suzanne glanced at the door.  “…I do.”  She swallowed her nerves.  “Listen…  The elevator-… You can’t go through the lobby, but the maintenance hatch leads to a large ventilation shaft out of the second floor.  It’s a bit high, but you… you might be able to make the jump.”

 

Wrench turned his head and stared at her.  This quiet woman who’d been sitting there silent for a month listening to every scar get inflicted had spelled out an escape within thirty minutes of talking.  He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.  “How would you even know that?”

 

Suzanne went tense.  “Because I’ve been planning my way out for weeks.  And that is the only way.”

 

Wrench stared at her.  Then he let her go.  “You’ve… barely left the room.”

 

Suzanne hurried to the computer where she’d been stationed and hit a few keys to shut the program she was using down.  “You can’t hack the human brain without some kind of technological know-how.”  She opened something else and brought up the camera feeds, spinning the screen around to show him.

 

Wrench’s attention landed on the feeds, and he cracked a small, disbelieving smile.  “You’re a hacker.”

 

Suzanne smiled.

 

Before they could say anything else, the door suddenly swung open as a guard walked into the room.  Suzanne’s smile disappeared.  The guard spotted the bloodied, empty bed first.  “Hey!  Where’s the prinsoner?”  He saw the feeds, and drew his gun, pointing it at Suzanne.  “What did you-!?”

 

His words were cut short.  Wrench had stepped out from behind the door and stabbed the scalpel into his neck, stopping all sound and breath at once.  When he pulled it free, the man’s blood rooster-tailed from his jugular, and he collapsed onto the floor.  Wrench watched him until he stopped moving, and he looked up at Suzanne.  “Uh.  Sorry.”  He paused.  “Wait, you’ve seen worse.”  He gripped the edge of the bed and reached down trying not to put weight on his injured leg.  His whole body hurt, but with the prospect of escape, he was starting to feel the adrenaline washing it away.  He could hurt later when he was home.

 

He picked up the man’s gun and stood up again with a curse.  “F-…Fuck that hurts…”

 

Suzanne stood from her chair and went to his side.  “You’re very injured…”  She took his face in her hands and checked his eyes, shielding them from the light of the room, and then dropping her hands to check his pupils in lieu of a small flashlight.  “Reactive though.  Let me bandage your leg, but then we have to leave.  I don’t know how we’re sneaking you into the elevator in the main room though…”  She glanced down at the dead guard.  “…Think you’re his size?”

 

~

 

Wrench was hot in the uniform.  The colours of it had thankfully been black, so the blood wasn’t obvious unless you looked.  He kept the sleeves rolled down to keep his tattoos and wounds hidden, and he wore the collar high, keeping his head low and ducked under the hat.

 

He was most definitely not the man’s size.  The clothing hung from him a bit, and the pants had to be kept on with a belt.  But he still carried himself like a soldier.  He had his hand on Suzanne’s arm, leading her down the hall to keep in character.  His leg screamed every time his foot touched down, but he had to ignore it.

 

Suzanne had shed her labcoat (since she’d used it to clean up most of the blood from Wrench), and looked smaller without it.  “Once we get to the end of the hall, we go right.  The elevator’s on the left, but there’s a lobby in front of it.”  Suzanne kept her voice low.  “Not a lot of people come down here though, so we should get the elevator to ourselves.”

 

As Wrench led her down the hall and to the right like he was instructed, he became aware of a bruise on her arm near where he had his hand.  At first he thought he was gripping her too hard, but then he realised that the bruise was old.  They didn’t handle her well here.  That’s why she knew what he needed to do to blend in.

 

She seemed to noticed him looking and gave him a sad smile.  “It’s okay.  I don’t even feel it anymore.  Please don’t worry about my _one_ bruise when you’re covered in them.”

 

Wrench shrugged.  “I’m kinda the protector first.”

 

They got to the elevator, and nobody paid them any mind when Wrench slid his borrowed keycard down the slot and hit the button to call the elevator.  They watched the numbers climb from further subbasements, and Wrench arched a brow at it.  “How many sublevels are there?”  He whispered at her.

 

“Fifteen.  Most of this building is below ground.  We’re on sublevel seven.”

 

“Jesus Christ.”  The elevator settled on their floor.  “Do I wanna know what’s on the other floors?”

 

“No.”

 

The doors split down the middle, but before they could board, they were met with the beaming face of Greenwood.  “Ah!  Well hello.  Going up?”

 

Wrench kept his head low, but his heart was beating out of his chest.  Suzanne’s arm flinched in a direction as if to direct him on the elevator, and he walked her onto it.  The doors shut, and Wrench suddenly felt like a wounded antelope in small space with a starving lion.  Had he not noticed it was him?

 

He stared at the string of numbers on the wall and tried to keep his shaking localised to the hand on Suzanne.  She stood between them and stared at the floor.

 

Wrench reached out with a gloved hand and pressed the button to the floor where they were going.  He remained silent.  He was afraid to breathe.

 

Greenwood only watched the numbers above the door.  “Quite the week we’ve been having.  Are you making any progress with the subject?”

 

Suzanne swallowed to wet her dry throat and kept her gaze down.  “…H-He’s very resilient… But the pictures we get are c-clear.”

 

“Well that’s good then, isn’t it?”  Greenwood’s hands remained in his pockets and he rocked on his feet.  “He’ll give us what we need eventually.  He’s not as strong as he thinks.”

 

The elevator rose in silence, and stopped a few floors before where they were headed.  The doors opened and Greenwood hummed a small tune on his way out.  He stopped outside of the door, and Wrench’s hand shot out to stab at the button to close the doors.  He looked over at Suzanne to check on her, and her eyes were wide staring down the back of the man’s head.  Wrench carefully squeezed her arm and shook his head.  He turned and looked out of the elevator doors as they began to slide shut.

 

His eyes locked with Greenwood’s gaze.  Wrench’s insides went cold; He knew.  The doors slid far enough that he couldn’t see Greenwood anymore, but just before he was out of sight, Wrench swore he saw him grinning.  Suzanne’s hand shot out and grabbed Wrench’s arm, and she turned to him just before the doors shut completely.  “Keep going.  Don’t go home.”

 

Before Wrench could speak, there was a muffled gunshot from outside the doors.  It zipped through the metal of the back wall of the elevator, and Wrench jerked away from the doors.  He gasped as his body began to panic.  He couldn’t go back to that room.  He couldn’t be strapped to that bed again.  He gripped the handrails as the elevator rose again, and he turned to Suzanne for guidance.

 

Suzanne stared back at him with blank eyes.  Her body grew lax, and she toppled back against the wall of the elevator.  Wrench watched a pinprick of a wound in her temple bubble over and spill a single straight trail of blood down the side of her face.  She slid down the wall and onto the floor.

 

“… _No!_ ”  He dropped after her and lifted her limp form from the floor.  “Don’t go, please, fucking _shit_ I can’t do this alone, please don’t-… please don’t be-…”

 

But Suzanne was dead from a single, horrifyingly efficient gunshot to the head.

 

The elevator jerked to a halt midfloor.  The lights dimmed to backup lights, and Wrench could hear yelling from just beyond the doors.  An alarm sounded.  He had to move.  His chest heaved, and he laid Suzanne back down on the floor.  “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I’m so _fucking-_ …”  He stopped himself and began shuffling off the jacket and armoured vest.  It was getting heavy.  He placed the vest and jacket over Suzanne and reached down to close her eyes.  “I’m sorry.”  He tucked the smaller pistol into the back of his pants.

 

He stood up and braced himself on the wall, climbing onto the handrails and feeling about the ceiling.  A panel gave way, and with a grunt, he shoved it upwards and away.  He forced his arms to pull himself up and through the hatch.  The adrenaline was pumping now.  He couldn’t even feel the pain in the leg anymore, despite being increasingly aware that it was bleeding again.  There was only so much the bandage he’d been given could do for a wound like that.

 

He replaced the panel to keep anyone who inevitably got into the elevator from getting a good look at him.  Then he turned to the walls and found his escape route was a good two floors away.  He located the maintenance ladder and began to climb.

 

The bullets came then, spraying blindly through the roof of the elevator, and Wrench pressed himself against the ladder.  He snarled against the metal and forced himself to keep going.  He reached the ventilation shaft, large enough to fit a human through on their hands and knees.  As he crawled into the chute, his breathing was laboured.  He wasn’t sure if he was hyperventilating or just exhausted, but his vision grew tunnelled.  He could think of nothing but escape.

 

Escape, and Marcus.

 

His hearing washed away with static as he continued his forced march.  Little pinpricks of light opened up below him in the metal as the shaft was shot at.  At least one bullet grazed his arm, but he couldn’t care.  He was fast approaching a grate on the far wall, and as much as he didn’t know how safe the exit was, it was still an exit.

 

His hands found the grate as he approached, trying to jimmy it loose, but it was holding fast.  He grunted and arched his back, curling his legs under him to flip around and put his feet first.  His right leg was on fire from all of the activity, but his left was fine.  He hauled off with one agonised scream and kicked at the grate.

 

After three or four bashes, the grate came loose and dropped out of sight.  Wrench shimmied his legs out and ducked his head through, staring out at the stars and the empty space.  San Francisco was lit up in the distance, calling him home.

 

His head grew fuzzy and the static grew louder.  Home… was he allowed to go home?  He reached up and gripped his head, trying to force away a wave of nausea.  That fought to take over.  Suzanne’s warning repeated in his head like a strip from an old movie.  ‘ _Don’t go home._ ’

 

Wrench shook his head to clear his thoughts and positioned his feet.  He had to go.  Now.  He eyed a nearby tree, hearing the sounds of agents shouting about his escape and telling each other to look around.  He braced his hands on the wall and jumped.

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well you wanted him back.


	9. Homeward Bound

Wrench shoved the door of a gas station open, staggering inside.  He limped over to an aisle and grabbed a pack of bandages, hissing with every step as the wounds across his body, old and new, festered.  He wandered to one of the fridges and leaned against the cool glass, pulling open the adjacent door and yanking out a water bottle.  He twisted the top off of it with a shaky, bloody hand and took the largest swig he could manage before capping it again.  Before he left the beverage section, he grabbed a tiny bottle of vodka and tucked it under his arm.  His breathing was still laboured, his muscles burned, and he was pretty sure his leg would be infected if he didn’t do something about it soon.

 

He passed the aisle with the medical supplies again and snagged bottle of peroxide, taking his items and half-finished water to the counter.  The items were deposited there haphazardly.  He glanced down and felt around in the pockets of the borrowed, dusty, bloody pants and pulled out a few twenty-dollar bills.  He set it on the counter.  Then he paused again and picked up a bag of M&M’s.  “And these.”

 

The young man at the counter was staring in a mixture of horror and concern.

 

Wrench cleared his throat.  “Uh… Please.  And can I- can I use your bathroom?”  He barely finished his sentence before his vision blacked out.

 

~

 

When he woke up, he was on the floor further in the store.  The lights were dimmer, and he was tucked in the hallway near the bathrooms and out of sight of the front windows.  His head was resting on a folded-up employee’s vest, and his leg had been covered in an absurd amount of paper towels.  It looked like there had been a hand resting on the pile that had been abandoned when the bleeding stopped.  He sighed and shifted his hips.

 

That’s when he noticed that the gun he’d had in his belt was gone.  He sat up.

 

Just as he did, the young man from the counter had been rounding his way into the hall.  The sight of Wrench sitting up made him shriek and drop all of the bandage boxes and bottles of sterile alcohol he had in his arms.  The things Wrench had grabbed were sitting nearby.

 

They stared at each other for a few seconds.  Wrench took a deep breath and sighed.  This kid really wasn’t a threat.  “Seriously, guy?  This station’s twenty-four hours, you can’t just close up.”

 

The kid drew in a shaky breath.  “I-… I just put the maintenance sign out front.  Sometimes our pipes burst because we’re on a b-bad line.  I put the sign out if I don’t feel like working.”

 

Wrench snorted.  “Uh huh.”  He sighed and pulled his (relatively) good leg up to lean on it.  “…So I passed out in your lobby, and you,” He gestured to the supplies on the floor, “Were gonna just… patch me up by yourself?”

 

The boy shrugged.  “I dunno, I get a lotta skating injuries I don’t wanna tell my mom about.  I fix them myself.”  His face twitched in a slight smile.  “Are you a spy?”

 

Wrench arched a brow at him.  Then he laughed.  “Hold on, you-…”  He snickered.  “You watched some bloody dude _lose consciousness_ , and your first thought is that he’s a spy you should risk your job for, and not ‘oh, I should call the ambulance’?”

 

The kid swallowed his nerves.  “S-…Should I-?”

 

“No.”  Wrench forced his other leg under him and groaned as he pushed himself to stand.  “Listen,” He snagged the vest that he’d been lying on as he stood and glanced at the nametag, “Trevor.”  He tossed the vest at him.  “As glad as I am that I get the one freak kid that won’t call the authorities when he fucking should, I really just need to get patched up and go.  I don’t need or want your help.”  He took a few steps towards him and stared at him.  “Now where is my gun?”

 

Trevor stared up at him in terror.  “I…  I hid it.  So you wouldn’t shoot me when you woke up.  If you kill me, you’ll never know where it is.”

 

Wrench rolled his eyes.  “Quit trying to be badass, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”  He glanced around and pointed at a slightly jostled display.  “It’s under the cookies, isn’t it?”  Trevor lost several shades of colour.  Wrench shook his head and patted his shoulder.  “Easy, Trev.  I’m not gonna kill you.  I just _really_ wanted to clean up and get some fucking M &M’s.”  He wandered over to the display and retrieved the gun, tucking it into the back of his pants again.  He limped back to the pile of medical supplies and sighed.  “This is gonna fucking _sting_ …”

 

Trevor made fists at his sides.  “What do you want me to do?”

 

Wrench narrowed his eyes.  “…I want you to get back to work.”

 

“What-”

 

Wrench leaned down with a wince and gathered up as many medical supplies as he could.  He didn’t know how much work this was going to take.  “ _Look,_ the last person who helped me got shot in the fucking head, kid.  So I want to take care of this shit myself.  I want you to go back up front and open the store so nobody notices anything is weird.  When I’m done, I’m going out the back, and if anybody asks, you sold some shady blond guy some medical shit, and he went south.  You don’t know anything else.”

 

“I _don’t_ know anything else.”

 

Wrench nodded.  “Then it won’t be a lie, and you won’t get in trouble.  Now go.  Shoo.”  He went to go back to the bathrooms.

 

Trevor looked at the floor.  “Are you a fugitive?”

 

Wrench stared him down.  “Probably.  I don’t know.  I haven’t seen the sun in weeks.”  He sighed and looked at the ground.  “Thanks for making sure I didn’t bleed out, man.  Thanks for not calling the police.  When all this is over, I owe you one.”  He turned away from him.  Before he got too far, he spotted a small, travel sewing kit in the corner.  He grabbed it and turned it over in his hands before heading back to the family bathroom for some privacy.

 

He locked the door and immediately curled himself into the corner on the floor, taking a few heavy breaths and burying his face in his knees.  Everything on his was screaming.  He peeled the oversized, stolen t-shirt off, and tossed it to the floor.  He looked down at himself.  Some of the gashes on his body were an angry red, but others didn’t seem as bad.  Most were scabbing over, and the burns were old.  Dusan had complained about the smoke as the ember burned into Wrench’s chest, and he never really brought that tactic in again.  Wrench had made a crack about Dusan preferring vaping, and it had earned him one ripped off fingernail.  That was still wrapped up and still sore.  Everything was sore.  He was so tired.

 

But he couldn’t stop now.

 

He leaned up and grabbed a massive handful of paper towels before settling back on the floor.  He undid the belt at his waist and let the military pants peel away from his legs.  The wound on his leg was white hot, but for the moment it didn’t seem to be bleeding.  He grabbed the peroxide and gripped it in his hand, staring at it.  “How the fuck did you get here, Wrench…?  Fucking covered in blood in a gas station bathroom in your underwear.”  He pondered for a moment and shrugged.  “Actually you’ve woken up in weirder places.”  He uncapped the bottle and grabbed a towel, pouring the peroxide straight over his wounds and gritting his teeth at the pain.  “Fuck!”  He hissed and slammed his head back against the wall.  “Okay.  Okay, waking up in somebody else’s fishnets is still better.”

 

He worked over his smaller wounds quickly, cleaning them up, drying them off, and covering them in bandaids or gauze pads.  When he was finished with that, he eyed the deep, open gash on his leg.  He was lucky that it hadn’t hit anything vital with how deep it had gone.  But it wasn’t going to get any better even if he treated it.  He had to close it up.  He grabbed the vodka and twisted off its cap, swallowing a good, painful mouthful and wincing.  He then set it aside and took the peroxide again, holding it over the wound.  “You got this Wrench…”  He mumbled to himself.  He tipped the bottle and poured.

 

His leg was on fire all over again.  He muffled a scream through gritted teeth and slammed his head against the wall again. This was going to be fucking _hard_.

 

As the peroxide did its job, he set to work on the sewing kit.  He bent the needle into an arc and threaded it, staring at it like it offended him.  If he ever saw Dusan again after this, he was shoving this needle through his eye.  He grabbed a wad of gauze and rolled it up, shoving it into his mouth and biting down.  He took a deep breath, pinched the wound closed, and pushed the needle into his skin.

 

The process was enough to make him want to pass out again.  His hands trembled through the pain as each new puncture set his nerves ablaze.  He had to stop periodically and pour sterile alcohol over the wound to clear the blood and see what he was doing, and then he got back to it.  For all the damage that was done, it only took about seven stitches.  The second the wound was tied off, Wrench collapsed on his good side and curled into a fetal position, pulling his knees to his head and taking deep, trembling breaths.  Despite all the pain, all the horror he’d been through, it still didn’t feel right to cry.  He couldn’t break down yet, because he wasn’t out of the woods.  He had to keep being strong until he knew, for sure, that he would be okay.  He wasn’t home yet.  He wasn’t with his family yet.

 

‘ _Don’t go home._ ’

 

Wrench squeezed his eyes shut.  His ears rang, and his head hurt.  He wanted to sleep and never wake up just to block out the images flashing through his head.

 

He lied there for an hour.  The wave of pain and images had long since passed, and he no longer felt like he would faint. He slowly sat up and pulled the clothing back on over his now bandaged wounds, leaning against the wall for a few seconds.  He cleaned the floor of blood and debris, throwing everything into a trash can before pulling the door open.

 

On the floor outside of the door was a bottle of painkillers and his half-finished water.  Behind them were two bags of M&M’s.  Wrench laughed at it.  “Nice…”  He took the items, stuffing things into his pockets.  He popped a few of the painkillers and washed them down with the water for all the good they would do.

 

He peered out of the hall, and Trevor had the lights back on.  He was standing at the counter looking dejected, dealing with an angry customer who was complaining about the stores lack of a certain brand of cigarettes.

 

Wrench sighed.  It was better that he go back to the daily grind than deal with whatever could be coming.  He ducked back down into the hall and found the employee door, which led to a supply hall and a back door that shipments would come through.  He found the kid’s hoodie on the wall and pulled it over his head, giving another sigh when it fell over his slim hips like a tent.  He really missed his own clothes.

 

Before the door shut behind him, he heard the argument escalating.

 

“This store’s always carried Lucky Strike!  I always get them here!”  The man sounded slightly drunk.

 

“I don’t know what to tell you sir, we’ve never carried that brand.”

 

Wrench hung in the middle hall for a moment longer, listening to the man yell and slam his hands on the counter.  Wrench rolled his eyes and turned back into the store.  He supposed he _did_ need a phone.

 

On his way into the lobby again, he grabbed another bottle of water out of the cooler and made his way to the counter.  The man was belligerent and flailing his hands wildly.  “How could you not recognise me!?  I’m here every night for those fuckin’ cigarettes!”

 

“I’m trying to tell you, sir, I work nights, and I’ve never seen you before.”  Trevor made note of Wrench’s presence again, and his eyebrows knit in confusion.  “Hey, is that my-”

 

The man reached out and grabbed at Trevor’s collar, demanding his attention.  “Don’t ignore me!  I’m a paying customer!”

 

Wrench cleared his throat.  “Technically you haven’t paid for anything.”

 

“Shut up!”  The man let Trevor go, but he stayed at the counter.  “Now you get your ass in the back and get me my cigs!”

 

Wrench hummed and moved forward, shoving the man out of his way with his free hand.  He set the water on the counter.  “Just this, please.”

 

“Hey!”  The drunkard stumbled back and wobbled himself to stand proper again.  “I’m not done with this punk, you ugly motherfucker!”  He clapped a hand on Wrench’s shoulder.

 

Wrench grabbed the man’s hand and spun out of the hold, using the man’s lack of balance and weight against him to slam him into the counter.  The man cried out, and Wrench clutched the back of his collar, yanking him back up and tossing him to the floor.

 

The man grunted as he shook his head clear and tried to stand up, and Wrench threw an arm around his neck, pulling him into a headlock.  The man struggled, but he was too unsteady to make any headway.  Once Wrench felt him calming down, he gave him a manic grin.  “I have had a really, _really_ long month, and an even longer day today, and I would like to buy some _water_.  Now this nice young man has told you that he doesn’t have your cigarettes, and being that I was just snooping in their back room, I can tell you that he's fucking right.  So do yourself a favour, get your drunk ass out to the fucking bus stop and go home.”  He let go.

 

The man stumbled forward and crawled away from Wrench.  “Fucking maniac!”  He scrambled to his feet and ran out the door.

 

“Tell me something I don’t know!”  Wrench called after him.

 

When he looked back at Trevor, the kid was grinning behind his hand.  “That was awesome!”

 

Wrench lifted his hand and waved a phone at him that he’d nicked from the drunk man’s pocket.  “Not really.  If he wasn’t hammered, he’d probably have eaten me for breakfast.”  He opened the phone, snorting at the lack of password.  “You go to school, Trevor?”

 

“Uh, yeah.  College.  Just community though.”  Trevor gestured to the hoodie that Wrench was wearing now.  “CCSF.”

 

“Not bad, not bad.  That’s like an hour and a half away, dude, wow.  Me, I never went to school.” Wrench started fiddling with the phone and tweaking programs.  “Dropped outta high school actually, but that’s, ya know.  Irrelevant.  Got any friends?”  He delved into a banking app and a few other things.

 

Trevor rubbed the back of his head.  “A few.”

 

Wrench nodded at him.  “Cool.  You’ll wanna hold onto those friends, man.  They are everything.”  He pressed something on the phone, and Trevor’s phone went off.

 

Trevor blinked and looked down at his pocket, pulling out his phone.  He narrowed his eyes as he opened the alert, but those eyes went wide.  “H-… Holy _shit!_ ”

 

“Tuition.  And something so you can treat your friends to something cool.”  Wrench glanced at the phone.  “And uh, some extra since I’m stealing your hoodie.  And this water.  And all that medical stuff.”

 

Trevor was speechless.  “W-Where did-… How did you-?”

 

“Whoever that asshole is was pretty loaded.  And annoying.  He probably won't miss this."  Wrench glanced out at the parking lot.  “Is that your dirt bike?”

 

Trevor didn’t even look up from his now exorbitant savings account.  “Man, take it.  Lock code’s 6172.”

 

Wrench gave him a small salute.  “Thanks, Trev.  Stay in school!”  He grabbed his water and headed for the door.

 

The dirt bike was a cheap and decked out with skull stickers and mud.  He unlocked it and revved the bike.  It buzzed to life.  He smiled.  Home free.

 

‘ _Don’t go home._ ’

 

His ears rang again.  With a grunt, he laid his head against the handlebars, waiting for the dizziness to pass.  “Shit…  _Shit_ …”

 

The images flashed in his head again— of Marcus, of the ceiling of his prison, of Suzanne and Dusan— and he gripped his head to block them out.  Why was Marcus screaming?  Was he screaming?  What the fuck was he even seeing?

 

The images passed.  The ringing quieted.  Slowly Wrench lifted his head.

 

He had to get somewhere public.

 

~

 

Wrench drove the bike to the Union City station, stashing it away behind some bushes and sneaking on board the subway with a large group of people.  He weaved his way through the people and found a seat in the corner by the wall.

 

The crowd wasn’t large by any means being only four in the morning.  He’d been lucky to stick himself in the group of partiers heading home to finally sleep. There were some early rising businessmen and women, the drunks, and him.  He tucked his legs up to his chest and took a deep breath, ducking his head into his knees.  He was cold, he realised.  He hadn’t had the chance to focus on temperatures for a while, but now that the pain was dull and he wasn’t running for his life, he was shivering.  Was it blood loss?  He couldn’t tell.

 

As the doors closed, Wrench pulled the stolen phone from his pocket and opened one of the Dedsec apps he’d downloaded.  He couldn’t broadcast who he was without bringing down the whole CIA on him and whoever might pick up his signal.  So he sent out a generic one.  It was a simple SOS that most, if not all of Dedsec would receive.  The closest members would track him down,take him somewhere safe, and he could get in contact with the others from there.  His chest was tight, and his nerves were high.  He was going to see them again.  Ray, Josh, Sitara…

 

Marcus.

 

A wave of emotion washed over him.  He bit his lip to drive it away.  He couldn’t let himself focus on anything but the goal right now.  He could have been followed.  His face could be in the news now to be hunted down.  He had to be vigilant.  At any moment, anything could go wrong, and he’d be back in that room.

 

The trip was quiet.  Nobody spoke to him, as was the usual for public transportation.  The partiers were strewn about the cabin, either sleeping or trying to stay awake so they could get off at their stops.  A businessman was shuffling his shoulder to try and shove a sleeping drunk off of him.  They stopped at other stations, either picking up no one or picking up stragglers, but nobody bothered to sit near him.  There was still a lot of space, there was no need to be in anyone else’s this early.

 

A few stops short of Wrench’s destination, and the train remained stopped for longer than it should have.  Wrench narrowed his eyes at the open doors.  He stood up and walked through the door that led to the next car up.  He peered around the wall and stared at the doors.

 

A police officer walked on, a wire in his ear.  Wrench ducked behind the wall, and the doors, including the ones between cars, slid shut.  The train resumed its journey.  Wrench cursed.

 

He brought out his phone again and messed with a police feed tracker he’d found, trying to find their feeds.

 

“ _We picked up the signal from Union City station, they could still be on board.  Check everyone._ ”

 

“ _Those hackers have to be somewhere._ ”

 

They were tracing Dedsec signals.  Wrench swallowed his nerves and moved to the door to the next car, peering through the window.  No police.  He pushed the button to open the door and walked through.  He hurried through the car to the other door and pressed its button, trudging through.  He lifted the phone again.  He had to keep going.  He couldn’t let them find him.

 

He moved into the next car up, nearest the front of the train, and hacked the emergency stop, activating it and jarring everyone on board.  The train came to a halt just short of the Lake Merritt station, and he flew from the opening doors into the tunnel.  As he ran down the track, he hacked into the power grid with what little energy the phone had left and shut everything down.  The light of the Lake Merritt station dimmed to only backup lights, and Wrench flew past it, not even bothering to climb onto the higher level.  He had to go further.

 

The tunnel was dark.  He could hear shouting from the station he left, but he didn’t know if it was people following him or just people fleeing the stopped train.  He rounded the bend in the tunnel, and everything was nearly black.  He had to keep going.  He reached back and pulled the gun out of his belt, ready to defend himself if he needed.

 

He wouldn’t even be using it to escape; He’d be using it to get the cops to shoot him dead.  He was never, ever going back to that room alive.

 

The light of his destination came into view.  Behind him, he heard the buzzing of the power kicking back on.  The train would be running again soon.  He could still hear the voices.  He peered back over his shoulder as he ran.

 

“Stop!”

 

Wrench skidded to a halt as the voice shouted from in front of him.  His weapon was drawn with precision and aimed at the speaker, who was standing with his back to the light of the station— Wrench’s stop— and his own weapon drawn.  Wrench’s eyes tried to focus.

 

The silhouetted man took a few steps toward him, but before Wrench could panic and fire, he stopped.  The gun was lowered immediately.  Then it fell to the ground from the man’s hands.

 

“...Wrench…?”

 

Wrench kept his gun aimed, but his eyes grew wide and terrified.  Terrified that it wasn’t real, terrified that he was dreaming, terrified that he was seeing things, but not terrified of the man.

 

His voice almost failed him.  “M-… Marcus?”  His mind was screaming for him to run to Marcus, but his arms remained rigid and gun ready.

 

Marcus stepped closer, his hands in the air.  “I’m… I’m here.  You can put this down now…”  He reached up and carefully put his hands over Wrench’s shaking ones, pulling the gun free from his hands.

 

Wrench still stared until his arms were lowered to his sides.  “Y-You… answered the SOS…?”

 

“We answer all of them.  Everyone else is laying low.”  Marcus rubbed his arms and looked him over.  “Shit, man, the fuck did they do to you…?”

 

Once there, in Marcus’ hold, even in the dark of the subway tunnel, it hit Wrench that he was finally safe.  His face of resilience crumbled away as he sobbed and lurched forward, throwing his arms around Marcus neck and clinging to him as tightly as he could.  It felt like if he let go, Marcus wouldn’t be there.  He wanted this to be real.  He _needed_ this to be real.

 

And it was real when Marcus clung back with just as much urgency, letting Wrench break down against him and cry into his shoulder.  Marcus rubbed his back and buried his own face in the crook of Wrench’s neck.  “ _Fuck,_ we thought you were dead…”

 

Wrench clung tighter, exhausted and desperate.  “I thought I was too…”

 

Marcus let one hand come up to the back of Wrench’s hooded head, pressing him further into his hold.  “Come on.  Let’s get you off of these tracks.”  Marcus began their short walk back to the Oakland station        platform and climbed up first, holding his hand down to help Wrench up.

 

Wrench took that hand and let himself be heaved up.  Once he was standing, he didn’t let go.

 

He was safe.

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3


	10. Trouble in Paradise

The safe feeling was short-lived.

 

The car Marcus stole for them had tinted windows, but it didn’t put Wrench at ease by any means.  The more he settled into the reality that Marcus was there by his side again, the more aware he became that Marcus was in danger just by being there.  He was sat low in the passenger seat, slumped and staring out at anyone and everyone they passed.  He was still shivering.

 

“You cold, man?”

 

Marcus’ voice filled Wrench’s chest with heat, but the shivering continued.  “Yeah.”

 

Marcus reached down and turned the air off.  It wasn’t a particularly warm night, so the air conditioning wasn’t necessary.  “There ya go.”

 

Wrench pulled the borrowed hoodie tighter around himself and tried to let the warmth settle into his bones.  He pressed his forehead against the glass and stared.  Every cop car made him seize up and shrink back against the seat.  His heart was trying to pound out of his chest.  How far did they have to drive?  Why weren’t they heading home?

 

Marcus’ hand was suddenly on his, and Wrench gasped as he was startled.  They were stopped at a red light.  Marcus was staring into his eyes.  “Hey,” His voice was careful and soft.  “You good?”

 

Wrench swallowed hard.  “No. I just don’t… wanna be outside anymore.”

 

Marcus smiled and nodded.  “Yeah, I get it.  I mean, I probably don’t, but…  I get the paranoia.  We been in defence mode since you’ve been gone, man.”  The light turned green, and Marcus turned left—

 

Further away from HQ.

 

Wrench bit his lip.  “Is-…”  He cleared his throat.  “Is that why we’re not going home?”

 

Marcus winced.  “Yeah.  We might have been compromised these last few days, so we’ve been keeping clear of HQ.”  There was something in Marcus’ tone, in his eyes, that told Wrench that he was missing something.

 

But he couldn’t let his paranoia spread to a mistrust of his friends.  “What happened…?”

 

Marcus took a deep breath and sighed.  “Hoo… Lotta things.  We thought we were making headway, and then the damn CIA started blocking every attempt we made to get any more info.  We had to move our base temporarily, at least until we’re sure we’re clear.”  He gave him a smile and squeezed his hand.  “I’m not letting those fuckers get their claws in you again.”

 

Wrench ducked his head and leaned back into the seat again.  He kept his gaze on his lap.

 

Marcus’ hand twitched on his, running his thumb over Wrench’s knuckles.  “I got you, man.  You hear me, Wrench?”

 

Wrench bit his lip and nodded.

 

They eventually pulled up to a cheap motel and parked near the back.  Marcus shut off the car and hurried out of it to open Wrench’s door to help him up.  Wrench hissed as his body was straightened out to stand.

 

Marcus grew concerned.  “You okay?”

 

Wrench braced himself on Marcus’ shoulder and looked down at his leg.  He it started bleeding again?  “Not… Not really?”

 

Marcus followed his gaze and saw the blood patch growing on the oversized pants.  “Holy shit, Wrench.”

 

Wrench tried to wave it off.  “Just- I just need to lay down.”

 

Marcus ducked under his arm and threw an arm around his waist to keep pressure off of his bad leg.  “Come on, let’s get you upstairs.”

 

Wrench scoffed, revelling in the warmth.  “S-Seriously?  You had to get a room on the second floor?  Can’t make this shit easy for me, can you?”

 

Marcus laughed despite himself.  “Sorry I didn’t foresee you comin’ home with a hole in your leg.  Come here.”  Marcus leaned down.

 

Wrench went to question him, but he suddenly had another arm under his knees, and he was airborne.  “Fuck!  Marcus!”  He clung to his neck and held on as Marcus took to the stairs.  “Buy a guy a drink first.”

 

Marcus snickered and smiled at Wrench.  “Good to know you’re still in there, man.  I’ll buy you whatever you want, but I gotta see that leg first.”

 

Wrench ducked his head against Marcus’ shoulder, feeling tired and succumbing to the calm Marcus’ hold.  “Well gee, if I’d have known you were this kinky, I’d have gotten kidnapped by the government way earlier.”

 

“Yeah, no, you tried that before, remember?  Didn’t work then, either.”

 

Wrench winced.  “Fair enough.”

 

They got to a door, room 219, and Marcus set Wrench’s legs down, bringing his fist up to knock on the door.  The knock sounded specific and purposeful.  A small knock, twice, answered.  Marcus knocked again, three raps, and the locks were undone on the other side.

 

Sitara opened the door.  “I swear Marcus, you keep-” As soon as she cleared the door, her eyes locked on Wrench.

 

Wrench shrank beneath her decorated gaze.  “…H-Hi.”

 

“Wrench!”  She dove out of the doorway and threw her arms around him.

 

Wrench hissed at the sudden pain, but he hugged her back anyway.

 

Marcus placed his hands against Wrench’s back.  “Easy, easy!  Come on, we can do this inside.”

 

Sitara drew back away from Wrench as she walked backwards back into the room.  “Oh my god, what happened?  Did I hurt you?”

 

The door was shut behind him, and another door opened.  It was a door that connected an adjacent room to theirs, and Josh stood in the doorframe.  Ray was seated in the other room behind him, but he immediately stood up upon seeing Wrench.  “My god…”  Ray managed.

 

Josh’s mouth was a small ‘o’ of shock.  “You-  You’re alive.”  He hurried in and made it to Wrench’s side.  “The odds of surviving being taken by the CIA are exponentially low especially for the crimes they think we committed, but you’re-… you’re here.”  His face grew nervous.  “…It’s been so long.”  It was like he was realising what that could mean.

 

“Yeah, and I would like to lie down.  Like, now.”  Wrench reached out and blindly found Marcus’ jacket, gripping the fabric to hold himself up.

 

 

Marcus dipped under his arm again and moved him toward the other room.  “I’m gonna check his wounds, you mind if we get in there?”

 

Sitara looked incredulous.  “Wounds?”  She reached up and put her hands on her head.  “What the hell happened to you?”  It was clear that she just wanted everything to be okay.  The fact that it wasn’t was fuelling her fury.

 

Josh moved to stand by her, gaze on the floor.  “The CIA has had him for weeks.  They-…  They probably-”

 

Sitara held up a hand and closed her eyes.  “Don’t say it out loud, Josh, because I might kill someone.”  She walked away from him and made it to Wrench and Marcus’ side after they walked into the next room.  She gave Wrench another, much gentler hug and pressed a kiss against his temple, leaning her braids into his shoulder.  “When we get you better… When we get more information, I want you to give me names.  I want you to point out faces, and I will personally set them on fucking fire.”

 

Wrench smiled against her and ducked his head.  Marcus snorted.  “Girl, you best be waitin’ in line.”

 

Sitara slowly pulled back and rested her hand on Wrench’s face, giving him a sad smile.  “…God it’s so good to have you back…”  She walked back to the main room and took Josh’s hand, leading him away.  Josh looked in like he had questions, but he went with Sitara anyway.

 

Wrench stared out of the doorway as the door began to shut, and he noted that Ray was staring him down.  His ears began to ring, and he squeezed his eyes shut, holding his head.

 

The door shut.  Marcus reached up and covered Wrench’s hands with his.  “Hey, you all right?  Look at me.”

 

The ringing quieted, and Wrench opened his eyes again, meeting Marcus’ gaze.  He bit his lip.  “My head’s been… weird.  I’m just tired.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll bet.”  Marcus shifted his hands and tugged Wrench’s head down.  His lips found Wrench’s forehead, and Wrench went pink.  Marcus pulled away.  “Damn… You’re running a fever, man.  Come on, let’s get you outta those clothes.”

 

Wrench snorted again.  “I am serious about that drink, M.”

 

Marcus smirked back.  “Not as serious as an infection.  Clothes off.”

 

Wrench sighed and looked away at the floor again, turning from Marcus and sitting on the bed.  He pulled the hoodie up and over his head and dropped it on the floor, shivering at the cool air on his skin.  The room grew quiet.  He slowly peeled the bloodied t-shirt over his head and started work on the belt of his pants.  “I hope you’ve got something for me to change into, because if I never see these damn pants again, it’ll be too fucking soon.”  He laid back on the bed and shimmied the pants off of his hips, sitting up to kick them away along with the boots.  He set the now loose gun on the bed.

 

He was exposed now.  The nerves built in him like a volcano about to blow, and he finally pulled his eyes from the floor to look at Marcus.

 

The humour was gone from Marcus’ face.  He had a hand over his mouth, and he was leaning against the wall.  “…Jesus, Wrench…”  He pushed away from the wall and sat on the bed next to him.  “What the fuck did they do to you…?”

 

Wrench flinched at the closeness, and he suddenly found himself caring about being so out in the open again.  When he was in the compound, he didn’t care.  He wasn’t going to give Dusan the pleasure of how uncomfortable Wrench was being so exposed.

 

Now, it was just him and Marcus, and the dozens of wounds scattered across his body.  And his face.  He no longer had his mask.  He no longer had his clothing.  He didn’t have anything of himself anymore.  He shoulders began to shake.

 

Marcus unzipped his jacket.  In seconds, it was off and covering Wrench’s shoulder again, and Marcus was standing.  “Lay down.  I gotta clean you up.”

 

Wrench pulled the jacket around him immediately.  “N-No, I already-”

 

Marcus swung around and held Wrench’s shoulders.  “Wrench, I know you don’t wanna do this.  I know you’re uncomfortable.  But you are bleeding, and you have a fever.  I gotta do everything I can to keep you out of the hospital and keep you _alive_.  Please let me do that.”

 

Wrench barely lifted his head to meet his eyes.  The concern and love in Marcus’ gaze dug into him like welcomed claws and carved out a good layer of his doubts and fears.  They were still there, but with Marcus around, they weren’t as loud and menacing as they usually were.  Slowly, he nodded, and Marcus made for the bathroom.

 

Wrench leaned forward and held his head in his hands.  It wasn’t fair that his brain was doing this to him.  Even if they weren’t in HQ, he was with his friends again.  HQ wasn’t home, _they_ were home, so it didn’t matter that this was a tiny hotel in the middle of Oakland.  If anything, they were safer hear.  This was where Marcus grew up; He knew these streets.

 

Wrench forced himself to stand, and he pulled the covers off of the bed, rolling them to the bottom before laying down on the sheets.  He pulled the jacket closed over his chest and ducked his head just enough to bury his nose in the fabric.  Marcus had always smelled like some undefinable note of cinnamon and whatever aftershave he wore.  Before, Wrench would tease him for smelling like he’d just slept in the supply room of a hipster coffee shop.  Now it was such a comfort that if Wrench could never smell anything else, he wouldn’t mind.  He wrapped himself in it, in Marcus, and closed his eyes.  He rolled onto his side and bit his lip.  He was still so cold.

 

A chair moved across the floor, and Wrench opened his eyes to Marcus sitting down just next to the bed.  “Still cold?”

 

“Y-Yeah…”

 

Marcus set a large first aid kit down on the bed and a bowl of hot, soapy water on the nightstand.  He rested a hand on Wrench’s shoulder.  “Then you can leave that on a little longer.  My main concern is that leg, and then I’ll get to everything else.  Flatten out for me.”

 

Wrench hissed and rolled onto his back again, turning his attention to the ceiling.  His breathing was even, but it hitched as he tried to keep it normal.  His lungs wanted to expunge everything in a scream, but he also wanted to be okay for Marcus.  The fear in his eyes was too much for Wrench to watch.  He didn’t want Marcus to be afraid.

 

Marcus busied himself tucking a towel under Wrench’s leg and putting on some sterile gloves that were in the kit.  He pulled out the various items he needed.  He took the wash cloth from the hot water and rang the excess out.  “This is gonna sting a bit.  Tell me if I’m hurting you too much.”

 

“I can take it,” Wrench answered.  He could feel Marcus watching his face as he stared at the ceiling.  He bit his lip and lifted his arms to cover his face.  “Go.”

 

Marcus sighed and reached one hand to hold Wrench’s leg by the knee.

 

Wrench’s response was involuntary.  The last gloved hand on him had held him still while another drove a hot metal rod through his thigh.  He jerked and sat up, grabbing Marcus’ wrist as tightly as his tired hand could, eyes wide.

 

Marcus met his gaze.  “It’s just me, Wrench,” He said.  “It’s just me…  I’m not gonna hurt you.”

 

“T-” Wrench found his voice gone.  “T-Take…  Take the gloves off.”

 

Marcus studied his face.  It seemed to hit him that something about them wasn’t a pleasant memory for Wrench, and he carefully peeled them off.  He held his bare hands up for him to see.  “There.  All me.”  He lowered that hand back to his knee.  “Is this okay?”

 

Wrench flinched when the hand landed back on him, but not from the touch.  He groaned and laid back down, covering his face again.  “This is… fucking humiliating…”

 

“It’s not.  You’re still the same old Wrench to me, and now I have even more of a reason to go out and murder the fuck out of whoever did this to you.”  Marcus thumb ran little circles on his knee while his other hand hovered with the cloth.  “Sting.”  He laid the hot cloth down.

 

Wrench’s back arched from the bed, but he bit his tongue to keep the cry in.  When the initial pain dulled, his back found the bed again, and he kept his eyes closed.  “…Dusan.”

 

Marcus didn’t stop cleaning the wound, but he did slow.  “…Dusan?”

 

“The C-CIA recruited him to pick us apart… and apparently put him in charge of putting holes in me.”  He shifted uncomfortably as a hot water dripped down his inner thigh, gripping the sheet in a clenched fist.  His other hand remained on his face, blocking his view.

 

Marcus grew quiet.  Wrench peeked between his fingers and saw that Marcus was only quiet to quell the rage that was boiling in his eyes.  He had a feeling that Dusan was back on his shit list again, and Marcus was trying not to jump to his feet and go find him right then.  Instead, he worked the wound in gentle circles, clearing any dirt and dried blood away until see the stitched wound.  Marcus ran his finger along the side of the gash.  “Who sewed you up?”

 

“I did.”

 

Marcus glanced at him.  “Seriously?  By yourself?”

 

Wrench shrugged.  “Didn’t have a choice.  I wasn’t gonna ask Trevor the skater boy to do it.”

 

Marcus snorted.  “I assume there’s a story there.”

 

Wrench smiled.  “Yeah, a tiny one.  I’ll tell you later when you’re not setting my leg on fire.”

 

“Am I hurting you?”

 

“I mean- yeah, but you have to.  Gotta get worse to get better, and if you don’t clean it now, I won’t have a leg.”  Wrench sat up a bit.  “I trust you, so… just don’t let me pass out, huh?”

 

Marcus smiled at him and rubbed at his knee again.  “Just kick me if I fuck it up.”

 

The scrubbing continued.  Wrench shoved his knuckles into his mouth until the process was through, trying to keep his pained grunts to a minimum.  At one point, his hand let go of the sheets and blindly reached for Marcus.  Marcus had shifted his chair just close enough that Wrench could catch a handful of his shirt and hold on tight.

 

The wound got clean, and the angry red tamed to a pink.  Marcus rubbed an antibiotic cream over the wound, and it began to go numb.  Wrench’s breathing settled as it did, and his balled up fist moved to cover his eyes.  Marcus took that as a sign to begin dressing the wound.  He placed a square of gauze over the wound, which had stopped bleeding, and he wrapped began to wrap it to hold it in place.  “When I find Dusan, I’m making him eat every tool he used on you.”

 

Wrench barked a laugh into the broken silence of the room.  “Make sure I get a f-front row seat.”

 

Marcus chuckled and carefully finished the wrap, placing clips on the finished end to keep it in place.  He rested his hand over the bandage and sighed.  “I’m so sorry you had to go through that…”

 

Wrench’s hand stayed over his eyes.  “Feel like I’ve heard that somewhere before…”  He shifted just enough to look at Marcus from under his hand.

 

Marcus shook his head and looked up at him.  “Sorry you have to keep hearing it.”  His thumb mindlessly rubbed just above the injury, trying to bring some comfort to the pain.

 

The hand on Marcus’ shoulder twitched, and Wrench arched a brow at him.  “…Getting kinda high up there, M…”

 

Marcus removed his hand.  “Wow.  You’re right, sorry.  I just-…”  He pulled the covers from the base of the bed over Wrench’s legs and drew his hands to his lap.  “…I guess I’m just trying to make sure you’re really here.”

 

Wrench stared.  He slowly sat up and tried to meet the eyes that wouldn’t look up from the bed…  As much pain and suffering as Wrench had gone through, he hadn’t stopped to think about what Marcus was feeling right now.  For however long he’d been gone, Marcus thought he was dead.  He was just now grasping that it wasn’t true.

 

Wrench reached over and slowly tugged Marcus’ hand back toward him.  He let that hand settle over the blanket-clad wound, and he laid his hand over it.  Marcus lifted his head to meet Wrench’s gaze.

 

Wrench gave him a soft smile that slowly morphed into a smirk.  “You can totally go higher.”

 

Marcus carefully grinned back. “Layin’ on the sexual tension a little thick there, Wrench.”

 

Wrench tilted his head.  “It’s been a month, man, you’re lucky my hand’s not nonchalantly on your dick.”

 

Marcus snickered and shook his head.  He removed his hand from Wrench’s leg and brought both of them to Wrench’s face, holding his gaze.  “There.  High enough for you?”

 

Wrench’s smile fell and gave way to something deep and longing.  Marcus’ hands were warmer than anything he’d ever felt, burning him deeper than Dusan’s cigarettes and leaving an imprint he never, ever wanted to rid himself of.  Right there on the face he hated so much.  Wrench swallowed.

 

There was a soft thud outside the door, and Wrench’s spine snapped straight.  He yanked Marcus to the side, and in an instant, Wrench’s borrowed gun was in his hand, cocked and ready, and pointed at the door.

 

Marcus wobbled in his seat and held onto Wrench’s arm.  “Woah, easy!  Easy Wrench, it’s probably just the guys!”  He let his hand crawl down to Wrench’s hand and slowly pull the gun from it.  “Easy.  You’re safe here.”

 

Wrench’s eyes never left the door.

 

Marcus soothed back Wrench’s hair and kept the gun cocked at his side, standing up and moving to the door.  He slowly turned the knob and the door opened inward.

 

Josh was standing on the other side.  Marcus sighed.  “Jesus, Josh.”

 

Josh rubbed at his arm.  “Sorry.  I wanted to see how Wrench was doing, but I knew you were busy, so… I was trying to figure out how to knock.”

 

Wrench collapsed back against the pillows again.  “Well you make a fist with your hand and throw it at the door a few times.  Replace door with a face and you’re punching.”

 

Josh barely smiled.  “I mean like hard or soft.  Sometimes after traumatic experiences, loud noises can trigger panic attacks or violent responses, so I was hoping to find a level that wouldn’t be too startling, or wouldn’t be too soft to be heard.”

 

Marcus smiled at him and uncocked the gun, setting it aside.  “Do you wanna come in?”

 

Josh fidgeted with his shirt and stepped through the doorway.  He turned around and shut the door with a measure of annoyance.  Marcus looked surprised at the motion.  “You good, Josh?”  He asked, letting Josh sit in the chair he’d been occupying.  He sat on the end of the bed.  Josh scooted the chair closer to the bed so he could be nearer to Wrench.  It seemed like Josh was proving to himself that he was real as well.

 

“I’m not talking to Ray.”  He turned his gaze to Wrench’s body.  “You’re smaller than when you left.”

 

Wrench shrugged.  “Yeah, systematic starving will do that to you.”  He leaned forward, trying to make light of his changes and injuries.  “Why aren’t you talking to Ray?”

 

Josh pursed his lips.  “Because he’s pissing me off.  He’s not making any logical sense, and he doesn’t know how capable you are like we do.  He’s being stupid.”  He looked up at Wrench and met his eyes for just a second before dropping his gaze again.

 

Wrench’s eyes narrowed.  “…What doesn’t he think I’m capable of?”

 

Josh chewed on his bottom lip.  “He thinks that we need to make sure you haven’t been wired.  He thinks you wouldn’t have been able to escape from the CIA alive.  But he doesn’t know you like we do.”

 

Wrench stared.  His vision grew blurry, and the ringing returned to his ears.  His hands slowly came up to plug his ears.  “S-…Son of a bitch…”

 

Marcus winced and turned to Wrench, holding his hand out to him.  “Guys, come on.  We all know that Ray’s just really old school.  Don’t hold it against him, he’s just being cautious.”

 

Wrench’s angry gaze turned to Marcus.  “Cautious.  Cautious about… me.”

 

“He’s old, Wrench.”  Marcus rubbed at his temples.  “He’s tired.  We all are, and this is the CIA we’re talking about.  Anything is possible.”

 

Wrench’s brows knit.  “So.  So wait.”  He pulled himself to sit up more.  “So you… you’re siding with Ray.  Again.”

 

Marcus dropped his hands to the bed.  “I did not say that.”

 

Wrench glared.  The ringing was a dull hum in the back of his head.  He threw the blankets off of his legs and climbed out of the other side of the bed.  “Fucking bullshit…”  He found where he’d cast his borrowed pants and began tugging them on.

 

Marcus and Josh stood up to follow.  Marcus lifted his hands to Wrench’s shoulders.  “Wrench, come on.  Calm down, you just got home, you’re tired and you need to rest.”

 

Wrench shook off his hands.  “This is not home!  Home is HQ!  At my bench!  Making several fucking explosives to shove down Dusan and Greenwood’s throats with my _friends_ backing my fucking play!”  He did up his belt and marched to the door.  He swung it open before Marcus could stop him and beelined for the old man.  “What the fuck is your problem, Ray!?”

 

Ray had been in a discussion with Sitara when he stomped in, and he stood to regard him.  “Easy, kid.  You should be layin’ down.”

 

“No, fuck you!”  Wrench got in his face.  “I come back after being gone for weeks, and you don’t say more than two damn words to me, and the first thing you do is tell everyone they shouldn’t trust me!”

 

Ray held his hands up slowly.  “That is not what I’m sayin’, Wrench.  Take a breath-”

 

Wrench snarled.  “Then what the fuck _are_ you saying, huh!?  Is this fucking revenge for when I didn’t trust you, because this is a shitty time to pull that card!  You have no fucking clue what I’ve been through!”

 

Sitara tried to shift herself between Ray and Wrench.  “Wrench, you need to calm down.”

 

Wrench nudged her out of the way.  “I’m not gonna calm down until this fucker tells me what the fuck his deal is!  While you’ve been cozy in here with your precious code and shit, I was busy getting my skin ripped off!  I was busy getting white hot fucking needles jammed into me because I _wouldn’t_ fucking talk!  I wouldn’t tell them where any of you were, and then I come back, and you think I just gave you up!?  You think I would do that!?”

 

“Wrench put the damn gun down!”  Marcus’ voice landed harder in his mind than anyone else’s.  His anger gave way to alarm as he became aware of a weight in his hand, and he slowly turned his wide eyes downward.

 

It was pointed at the floor, but sure enough, his stolen gun was planted firmly in his trembling hand.  He hadn’t even realised he’d picked it up.  “W-…  When did-…” He took a deep, swallowing breath.  “Why did I-…?”

 

Marcus walked to his side and gently pulled the gun from Wrench, replacing it with his own hand.  Wrench looked up with a measure of fear at him.  Then he moved to look at his friends.

 

Josh was in the doorway covering his ears.  Sitara looked like she was ready to jump at Wrench and hold him down if she needed to.

 

Ray still had his hands in a submissive position.  He sighed.  “I’m not saying that you gave us up.  I’m saying I know a lot of the shit the CIA can do when they torture you.  They can get to you even if you don’t know it.  You’re good, Wrench, but there’s no way you got out o’ wherever you were unless they wanted you to.”

 

Wrench stared at him.  The wave of images came down on him like a hurricane.  He gripped his head with his free hand.  Greenwood’s grin just before the elevator doors shut was burned in his mind, as was Suzanne’s thousand-yard stare after the bullet entered her brain.  She’d been so helpful.  It had all happened so fast.

 

Too fast.

 

Wrench swallowed the lump of horror in his throat and turned his lost gaze back to Marcus, tears welling in his eyes.  “I-… I don’t even…  W-What do I do…?”

 

Marcus pulled him close again and pressed Wrench’s face into his shoulder.  “You’re just freaking out right now.  You’re still in self-defence mode…”

 

Ray continued.  “I’m gonna search you and everything on you for bugs, okay?  But we can do that later.  Right now, you need to get back in there and lie down.  Because you _were_ tortured.  We need you better so we can see everything they did to you and undo it.”

 

Wrench took a shaky breath and went lax against Marcus.  “…Okay.”

 

Marcus rubbed his back and angled him so they could walk back.  “We know you’d never turn on us, Wrench.  But this is the CIA.  They will do everything they can to get to us and take us down.”  Once they pass the doorway, Marcus shut the door behind them.  “And I’ll be damned if I let them use you like this.  I got you, man.”

 

Wrench sniffled and squeezed his eyes shut.  “…I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Marcus.”

 

Marcus pressed his lips against Wrench’s head.  “Nothin’.  Not a damn thing.”

 

~


	11. Glitches

A few hours later, Wrench was finally calm.  He had a dull, continuous headache that he’s sure had been there the whole time, and he was only now aware of it.  Marcus had done a once-over of all of his other bandages, making sure they were replaced and wrapped properly.

 

He finally let Ray into the room, and Marcus helped him change into some loose-fitting clothes that Sitara had spent the few hours buying for him.  Ray sifted through the pile of clothes he stole off of the dead guard and ran his phone along the length of them.  He had an app on his phone that check for foreign signals, and it would whine like a metal detector if it found anything.

 

Wrench was sat on the edge of the bed, god leg bouncing with nerves and frustration.  Marcus had never been too far away, and he was sitting beside Wrench with a hand resting between Wrench’s shoulders.  It was a comforting warmth against the chill that wouldn’t leave him bones.  “There’s no way you’re gonna find anything.  I got those off of some rando, and unless they bug every single guard in that place, I think we’re good.”

 

Ray shrugged and began scanning the pants.  “We just gotta be sure.  Not sayin’ you _agreed_ to be wired or anything, but this is-”

 

“If you say ‘the CIA’ one more time like I don’t know what they’re capable of, I’m gonna punch you in the face.”  Wrench was tense.  Marcus’ hand gently ran along his spine to keep him grounded.

 

Ray dropped the cleared pants and snagged the t-shirt.  “I’m gonna _keep_ sayin’ it.  You keep gettin’ all defensive like I’m accusing you, and I’m not.  I do trust you, Wrench, it’s those fucks in the government I got no faith in.”  He found nothing in the shirt.  “Well those are clear.  Where’d that gun go?”

 

Marcus gestured with his free hand to the other side of the room.  “I put it over there on the table.”

 

Wrench snorted.  “Seriously?  Who bugs a gun, dude?”

 

Ray snickered at him as he walked away from the clothes.  “Defensive again.”

 

“I am not, I’m being realistic.”  Wrench rolled his eyes.

 

Ray shook his head and kept walking.

 

His phone whined to life in his hand.  The room grew quiet again, and Ray lifted the phone to look at the reading.  He hadn’t even gotten to the other side of the room yet.

 

He was standing by Wrench.

 

Wrench stared at the phone, and then up at Ray.  Ray moved the phone closer to Wrench, and the whine grew louder.  Wrench jerked back, kicking his legs up on the bedding and trying to crawl away.  “What the fuck are you-”

 

Marcus steadied the hand on his back to try and hold him still.  “Wrench, breathe.  Let it him work, it’s gonna be okay.”

 

Wrench struggled into Marcus’ hold.  “No.  No, what are you doing-”

 

Ray moved the phone away and took a step back, and Marcus gathered Wrench and his flailing arms in a hug.  “Wrench!  We are trying to help you! Whatever’s going off is something they did to you.  Nobody’s gonna hurt you.  _We_ are not gonna hurt you,” Marcus pleaded.

 

Wrench’s chest was heaving.  But being pressed against Marcus’ front was taking a lot of that terror away.  Marcus was grounding him and keeping him from going completely off the deep end.  What the fuck was wrong with him?

 

Ray gave Wrench a half smile.  He turned to Marcus.  “There’s a lot that’s gonna be hard.  PTSD is a bitch like that.”

 

Wrench narrowed his eyes as he caught his breath.  “I don’t have-”

 

Ray arched a brow at him.  “You almost shot me for bein’ worried earlier.”  He held up the phone again.  “Now you got a plant on you somewhere.  I’m gonna find out where it is so we can get it out.”  He held the phone toward him, but he waited until Wrench opened up his body language a bit more before starting to move the phone along his body.

 

He started with Wrench’s good leg, and the hum remained dull.  As he moved into the bad one, Wrench tensed in Marcus’ hold.  “Oh fucking _shit_ it better not be in there, _fuck_ -”

 

The phone coasted over the wound, and the signal strength remained the same.  The breath left Wrench in a panic.  Marcus held his shoulders.  “It’s not in your leg.  We don’t gotta dig around in there again.”

 

Wrench watched the cell phone move over torso and his arms.  It climbed to his shoulders and the whine grew louder.  Ray’s hand brought the phone to Wrench’s head.  The whine reached a crescendo.  Wrench went pale.  “…It’s in my head.  They bugged my head.”

 

“Mother fuckers…”  Marcus cursed.

 

Wrench’s hands came up to bury in his hair.  He gripped his head and began frantically running his fingers over everything— his face, his neck, his scalp— for any sign of the bug.

 

When his search grew blind and desperate, Wrench’s hands were caught by Marcus’ own.  “Easy…  Lemme look.”

 

Wrench swallowed the desperate gasps that were ready to escape, and he slowly dropped his hands and lowered his head.  “Get it out.”

 

“We will, we will.”  Marcus tilted Wrench’s head and ran his fingers through his hair, feeling around his scalp for any risen lumps or scar.  Just at the base of his scalp, he found a healed mark just big enough for a large syringe to pass through.  “God…” He pressed against it carefully.

 

“D-Did you find it?”

 

“I found where it went in.”  Marcus’ fingers traced upward along his head for any sign of its path.  “Lemme see if I can figure out where it is…”

 

Ray sighed and rubbed at his face.  “Marcus, if this shit is in his brain-…”  He didn’t seem like he wanted to continue.

 

“Then Wrench can tell us where he was being held, and we’ll get that doctor out of there to remove it.”  Marcus kept searching.

 

Wrench’s eyes turned to Marcus.  “Doctor…?”

 

“Katchadourian.  We got her name from a source.”

 

Wrench flinched.  His head ducked further and he closed his eyes.  “…Suzanne Katchadourian is dead.  She died help-” He inhaled sharply.  “…Helping me.”  The silence that followed held the room for too long.  Wrench bit his lip and hunched further.  “Please get it out.”

 

Marcus pursed his lips and continued search.  His fingers dipped just behind Wrench’s ear and found a pill shaped bump just beneath the lobe.  Marcus must have been holding his breath, because it escaped in a sigh of relief.  “It’s not in his brain.”

 

Wrench gasped for his own breath.  “ _Fuck,_ get it out, get it-…”

 

“It’s comin’ out, man, we’ll get it.”  Marcus pulled his head up to face him again.  “We still gotta find a doctor though.  I can stop something from getting infected, but I don’t trust my hand that close to your head with any kind of knife.”

 

Wrench flinched and lifted his head, panicked.  “We don’t have time for that.  If they’re tracking me, they know where we are.  Please don’t let me be the reason you get caught, Marcus, they said they were gonna do things to you, the same- the same shit they did to me, I can’t let them do that, I can’t-”

 

Marcus closed his eyes.  “I’m not risking your hearing.  I’m not risking _you_.”

 

Wrench groaned and stood up, pacing across the room.  “ _Marcus_ , you’ve gotta think about the bigger picture here.”

 

“I’m with Wrench on this one, Marcus,” Ray chimed in.  “We can just cut careful.”

 

Marcus stood after Wrench and gave Ray a glare.  “You’re not helping.”

 

Wrench turned and stared at Marcus.  “I’m not so important that you have to risk everybody.  I’d rather you just _shoot_ me and put me in a river somewhere to throw those fuckers off.”

 

Ray looked taken aback.  “Whoa hey, let’s not go that far.”

 

“Let me do it.”  Josh’s voice cut through the argument.  Wrench lifted his head to see that Josh was standing in the doorway again.  Josh cleared his throat.  “Make the incision I mean.  I’m not going to shoot you and throw you in a river.”

 

Ray nodded to Josh.  “You got steady hands?”

 

“I don’t care-” Wrench started.

 

Josh interrupted.  “I do when I’m working.  I build computers and type code under immense stress.  I can handle this.”  He looked at his hands.  “…I’m not going to screw up again.”

 

Wrench bit his lip.  With a sigh, he moved to Josh and kept a short distance away, respecting his space.  “You didn’t screw up.”  He gave him the gentlest smile he could muster.  “I trust you, Josh.”

 

Josh lifted his eyes enough to watch Wrench’s body language.  As he saw more and more of Wrench cold, coiled mannerisms, Josh’s seemed to open up more.  He grew resolute.  “I’m going to go wash my hands.”

 

~

 

Marcus and Ray left the room as Wrench and Josh set up at a small desk.  Josh had thoroughly cleaned his hands once and then went back and did it again after Marcus whispered something into his ear before leaving.  Wrench assumed that it had been something about his dislike of gloves.  Something warm settled in Wrench’s chest.

 

Josh set up various first aid items on the table, and there was another towel on its surface meant for Wrench’s head.  Wrench stared at it.  “I am really gonna like it when I don’t have to get stabbed anymore.  That’s gonna be great.”

 

Josh took his seat at Wrench’s side with a pocket knife he’d sterilised with a lighter and sanitised in liquid in a plastic cup supplied by the room.  He set it on a folded napkin.  “It should just be this one last time.  And it’s just me.  I’ll try not to hurt you too much.”  He pulled a set of tweezers from the same cup.  He also handed him a bottle of painkillers.  “Take these now.  It won’t do anything until we’re finished, but… Did you want me to wait until they-”

 

“No.  No do it now.”  Wrench opened the bottle and poured three of the pills into his hand, tossing them into his mouth and swallowing them dry.  Josh winced.  Wrench pulled his lips into a sneer and laid his down on the towel.  “I’ll be fine.  This is nothing.”

 

Josh waited until Wrench settled, watched him stretch his legs out to keep them from bouncing.  Wrench took a deep, shaky breath and released it.  Josh lifted he knife in his hand.  “I’m going to put my hand on your head.”

 

“You can just do it, Josh, it’s fine.  You don’t have to narrate.”  Wrench let himself grin.

 

Josh pursed his lips.  “…I just want to make sure you know it’s me and you don’t panic.”  He laid his hand on Wrench’s head.  It was timid and gentle— seeing as what was coming next would not be.

 

Wrench closed his eyes at the feel of Josh’s hand.  It was hesitant, but inhumanly steady.  Somehow it was still different enough from Dusan’s hold that it was comforting.  For all the damage Dusan gleefully did to him, his hands were always, always shaking.

 

“Brace yourself.”  Josh words came a second before lightning struck behind his ear.  Wrench made an undignified whimper of a noise and pressed his face further into the towel as the knife split the skin over the implant.  It hadn’t even hurt that badly, but the wave of ringing and images that followed was making him dizzy.  His hands gripped the table’s edge until his knuckles were white.  There was a pinch, a clattering sound, and then the press of a hot cloth.  “Done.”

 

“ _Jesus…!_ ”  Wrench took a breath.  The ringing slowed.  The flashes faded.  The headache remained.

 

“Did I hurt you?”

 

“No… No, it was the-… the bug, or something…  I think it’s been fucking with my head.”  He shifted his hand to cover the cloth and let Josh’s hand retreat.  He slowly sat up.  “Shit…  That was fast.  Did you tell yourself I was one of your computers or something?”

 

Josh snorted.  “I told myself you were one of my best friends, and that I had to do it to help you.”

 

Wrench bit his lip.

 

Josh seemed t realised how heavy the room was now and decided to change the subject.  He carefully set another plastic cup in front of him, and sitting in the bottom, slightly bloody, was a cylindrical, sealed computer chip.  Josh looked at it for a while as well.  “I don’t know what it’s for.”

 

“We should flush it.”  Wrench said without hesitation, staring at the chip like it had personally wronged him.  He went to reach for it.

 

Josh tugged it away.  “I can’t let you do that.  Ray and Marcus want to see if they can reverse whatever trace might be on it and track down the people who took you.”  Josh carefully took the cup and set it further away from Wrench.

 

Wrench watched him move the cup, and he frowned at Josh, pulling the cloth away from his head.  “…Please don’t tell me you don’t trust me either…”

 

Josh’s gaze shot up immediately.  He looked _hurt_.  “I trust you with my life.  I just want to find these bastards as much as Marcus and Ray do and hurt them for taking you.”  He kept Wrench’s gaze for longer than he’d held anyone else’s.

 

And Wrench suddenly felt so small.  His own face descended into grief.  He ducked first, chewing on his lip.  What the hell was wrong with him?  These were his friends; they weren’t trying to hurt him or betray him.  So why was he so wary of every little thing they did?

 

Josh finally looked back at his lap.  “…Are you mad at me?”

 

Wrench lifted his head and covered his face with his hands.  “No, I’m… I’m not.”  He inhaled, and the breath escaped in a sob.  “God fucking _dammit_ , I just want-… I want all this shit to go the fuck away, and there’s something... _wrong_ …  I can’t think straight, and I feel like everyone’s out to fucking get me…”  He curled his back to arc forward again.  “I’m scared.  I’m scared that we’ll never be safe, and I’m scared that if we don’t do every single thing right, they’re gonna come after you.  I don’t want anybody else to go through… _this_ …”  He gestured to himself.  “I just want it to _stop_ …”

 

Josh didn’t respond.  For a moment, only silence answered, and then Wrench felt the hot cloth on his neck again.  He winced.  When he looked up again, Josh was staring, trembling.  “…You… You were bleeding.”

 

Wrench closed his eyes.  Before he could speak, Josh had launched himself at him.  A hug from Josh, which he’d had before, was usually short and rigid and lasted just long enough for Josh to collect whatever comfort he needed from it before he moved on.  Now, it was desperate and swallowing.  Josh was soft, but he was shaking.  He didn’t want to lose Wrench.

 

Wrench didn’t want to lose him either.  He clung back just as hard, all bones and trembling, unsure muscles.  He tucked his face into Josh’s shoulder and tried to ignore the fear in his head that was building for Josh, and for Marcus, and Sitara and Ray.  He tried not to imagine them dying or being tortured in that same bloodstained bed in the bowels of the compound with Dusan grinning over them.  He wanted them to be safe.

 

As they both calmed down against each other, Wrench let himself feel more of Josh.  He didn’t get this chance often, even if he felt like he was taking advantage of Josh.  He did find himself wishing that Josh would hug him more often.

 

He felt Josh grow slightly tense, but he also felt the cloth move away from his neck.  “…I think the bleeding stopped.”

 

Wrench snorted.  He stayed quiet for a moment, but the more he focused on what he could feel, the more anxious he grew.  He was noticing more and more, and one of those things was easily the loudest thing in his hold.  He slowly pulled away.  “Guess you better go get cleaned up then…”

 

Josh nodded and stood up, only pausing to glance at the floor.  “It’s gonna be okay, you know.  I’ll figure out who did this and what the CIA wants with us.  So you don’t have to be scared.”  He grabbed the cup with the chip and walked away into the bathroom.

 

The minute he was out of sight, Wrench released the terrified breath he’d kept captive in his chest.  He forced himself to keep from hyperventilating.  He looked down at his offending hand shook with the still slightly bloodied knife hilt pressed into his palm, hand gripping the instrument like he’d been ready to use it.  He dropped it to the floor and covered his mouth.

 

There was something wrong with him.

 

~

 

Wrench got the bed in the second room to himself that night.  The first room where most of the computers were set up had two beds big enough for two each when they were cleared off.  Josh and Sitara slept staggered in one, with Sitara’s head at the foot of the bed to make sure Josh was comfortable with their position.  Ray had the second to himself.

 

Marcus had chosen to steal away some bedding and camp out on the floor by Wrench.

 

Wrench's head had been bandaged as soon as Marcus had come back in.  He’d taken the chip to Ray to start looking into, but he returned with the bedding for later and then never left.  He’d moved Wrench to the bed, throwing extra pillows under his legs and behind his back so he could be as comfortable as possible.  He’d brought in a laptop and had thrown himself next to Wrench, pulling up a bunch of the older Siska movies to keep them entertained.

 

Marcus had gone out of his way to keep their banter normal.  He was significantly more touchy than usual, but Wrench already had an answer for why that was; Marcus still wasn’t sure how real he was.  He was afraid to wake up and find that Wrench wasn’t there after all.  Wrench understood the feeling.  His biggest fear, besides the CIA busting down every entryway of the rooms and killing all of his friends, was going to sleep and waking up staring at that sterile, white tiled ceiling again, with the incessant beeping of Suzanne’s computer and the nervous tapping of her fingernails.

 

But at least she would be alive.

 

He groaned for what felt like the hundredth time that night and wrenched his eyes open.  The ceiling was dark, but there was still a distinct stain on its pane that promised him he was still in the hotel.

 

“Wrench?”  Marcus called.

 

Wrench winced.  “Yeah?”

 

“You okay?”

 

Wrench gave a sigh.  “…The short answer is still no.”

 

He heard shuffling, and Marcus’ silhouette eventually came into view over the window.  He carefully pushed out his back and groaned.  “Need me to get you anything?”

 

“…Several beers?  Sleeping pills?”  Wrench shrugged even though it might have been too dark to see.  “See if Ray’s got any of that good shit left.”

 

Marcus snorted.  “Nah, all that’s back at HQ, man.  None of that ‘til we’re safe again.  I’ma get you some water.”  Marcus yawned and wandered over to the bathroom.  He flipped on the flight and cursed at its intensity.

 

Wrench snickered.  “Don’t hurt yourself.”

 

“What the fuck they got in here, man, 400 watts?”  Wrench heard the water running and then stop.  Then the light streaming into the room was flipped off.  There were a few steps, and then silence.  “…Fuck, now I can’t see where I’m goin’.”

 

Wrench laughed and pushed himself to sit up.  He turned on the light and watched Marcus squint at it.  “There.  If you dump that on me, I’m personally putting you in charge of changing all the bandages you ruin.”

 

Marcus smirked at him.  “I already am in charge of that.”  He set the water on the table and sat on the edge of the bed.  “Think maybe you’ll sleep better if I play some music or something?”

 

Wrench flopped carefully onto his side.  “Oh, yes mother.  Can you also get me a night light and those little glowy stars you stick on the ceiling?”

 

Marcus laughed and shoved his shoulder.  He was careful to avoid his injuries; He knew where they all were after all.

 

Wrench felt his smile fading.  As much as he wanted to be happy, he was too scared that it would all be ripped away.  Now he was afraid it might be by his own hands.  Marcus rubbed the back of his head and sighed, moving to stand.  Wrench’s hand flew out and caught the back of his shirt.  “W-… Wait.”

 

Marcus sat back down and pulled a leg up on the bed, angling himself to look at him better.  “What’s up?”

 

Wrench inhaled a shaky breath.  “I kinda… spent the last month in a bed by myself.”  He turned his face into the pillows.  “When I close my eyes I’m- I’m back in that bed.  So I have to keep forcing myself to wake up and look around and… and make sure I’m not.  So can you-” He cleared his throat.  “Can you maybe-…”

 

Marcus was silent.  Then he gave a chuckle.  “I mean… that floor ain’t exactly the most comfortable place to sleep.”

 

Wrench laughed into the fabric before turning his head to glare at him.  “If you were uncomfortable, you should have said something.  We could fit all of us on this damn thing if we squeezed, you didn’t have to be on the floor.”

 

Marcus snickered at him.  “Yeah, the day you get Ray to agree to that, I am buying you a liquor store.”  He pulled his legs up completely and shuffled under the covers, leaning over Wrench and turning the light back off.

 

“You already owe me about that many drinks’ worth of alcohol at this point, you may as well do it now.”  Wrench felt his chest growing lighter.  Marcus’ presence was already pulling his head out of its dark place.

 

Marcus settled onto the pillow beside him with a laugh that Wrench was sure he only imagined as sultry.  “Oh I still need to buy you a drink, huh?  You’re still on that?”

 

Wrench smiled wider in the dark and was waiting for his eyes to focus and find Marcus’ face again.  “I mean, you did just bring me a water.  Which makes you more of a gentleman than I was expecting.”  He put his hands jokingly over his chest.  “So wholesome.”

 

Marcus snickered again.  “You say that like I ain’t always been a damn gentleman.”

 

Wrench stuck his tongue out and shifted closer.  “That makes one of us.”

 

Their knees bumped, and the room went still.  Their eyes adjusted to the darkness, and Wrench’s breath left him.  Marcus wasn’t smiling.  It was still too dark to read the minutiae of the expression he wore, but a dread filled his chest that it might not be positive.

 

He swallowed to wet his suddenly dry throat and withdrew his legs.  “S-… Sorry, I-… Sorry.”

 

He made a move to roll over and turn away, but Marcus caught his shoulder.  “Nah, you-…”  Marcus took a breath and shifted closer.  “…You gotta be able to feel me to stay outta that room in your head, right?”  Their knees brushed again, and Marcus’ arms were coming around his waist to hold him there.

 

Wrench lost his breath again, but now it was for a different reason.  His hands hesitantly came forward and brushed Marcus’ chest before sprawling his long fingers across its expanse.  His own chest heaved.  “…Is that the only reason you’re-… you’re up here…?”

 

Marcus tugged him closer by his waist.  “…Do you want it to be?”

 

Wrench’s hands made fists and took the fabric of the shirt with it.  “No.”

 

“Good.”  Marcus lips were on his before he could think.  The moment they were, Wrench lost the ability to do so.  He couldn’t bring himself to care.

 

Marcus’ kisses were hungry.  His hands cupped Wrench’s neck and the back of his head, careful to avoid his new and old wounds.  Their lips met over and over in a friendly spar, tongues chasing each other in a seemingly endless game of tag.

 

Wrench never let his hands leave Marcus’ body.  He dragged blunt nails up from his chest to his shoulders, sliding up to rake over Marcus’ hair and pull him close.  Marcus’ hands roamed down Wrench’s body in turn, pressing his fingertips everywhere there wasn’t a wound.  They pressed deep, kneeding the muscles and sending shivers up and down his spine.  Wrench moaned into the kiss, and Marcus swallowed it, letting his hands dip to Wrench’s hips.  He tugged him forward with one roll of his hands, and Wrench’s body jerked.  “P-…Please…”  The word was barely breathed against Marcus’ lips.

 

Marcus gently rolled Wrench to his back and ran his hand along the side of Wrench’s bad leg.  “Careful with this.”

 

“I don’t even feel it anymore…”  Wrench still moved that leg up and out of the way as Marcus hooked his hands under his knees, pulling them around his waist and leaning forward.  Wrench gave a desperate, needy gasp as his arousal met with Marcus’ considerable one, and his hands frantically traced up Marcus’ arms.

 

Marcus caught Wrench’s desperate hands and slid them over Wrench’s head, pinning them into the soft pillows and lacing their fingers together.  Pressing their lips together once more.  He only pulled back to stare down at him.  “What are we doing here, Wrench…?  How far we goin’?”

 

Wrench caught his breath as he stared into the dark eyes that threatened to take it away again.  He swallowed his nerves and bit his lip.  “…P-… Please don’t stop,”  He begged.  Wrench was terrified that it would stop.  He was terrified that the morning would prove this all to be a dream, or that they would be hunted down and killed.  He was afraid that they didn’t have much time.

 

Even in the dark, Marcus saw the emotion for what it was— Love.  He drank it in and leaned down again, catching those nervous lips with his.  His hands slid under the waistband of Wrench’s loose pants and rubbed promising circles into his hip bones.  “I won’t.”

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this chapter is later than I usually post. I live right smack dab in the middle of Florida, and we've been neck deep in hurricane prep for a few days. On that delightful note, there's a pretty high chance that our power might go out and I won't be able to post over the next couple of days. However, my tiny laptop has a glorious eleven hour battery life, so if I work smart, I might have at least two, maybe three chapters when we come back online.
> 
> Thanks again for your comments and support! Don't worry about me in this storm, we've battened down hatches and covered windows. If I don't see you tomorrow, I'll see you in a few days!


	12. Familiar Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it begins.

Wrench woke up alone.

 

His bleary vision struggled to focus on the red numbers of the alarm clock.  11:30, it read.  He sighed.  He supposed he couldn’t really be angry at Marcus for not being there when Wrench’s body was trying to make him sleep all day.

 

_Marcus._

 

Wrench’s face broke out in a giddy grin.  His body hurt, but in a new, good way, and this was definitely Marcus’ shirt covering him now under the blanket—

 

And absolutely nothing else.  He sat up and gave a short groan, rubbing the back of his head, watching his bandage.  He glanced down at the other bedside table and found a fresh glass of water a few pills sitting on its surface.  The glass had a sticky note on its side ordering him to take the pills with a winking smiley face next to it.  It was Sitara’s handwriting.  Wrench smirked at it.  Apparently she was already in the know, but he figured it wouldn’t take long.  He popped the pills into his mouth and washed them down with the water.

 

He stretched his back out carefully, swinging his bare legs out of the bed and standing up.  He snorted as the shirt he’d apparently stolen from Marcus’ wardrobe dropped to his mid-hip.  He recognised the shirt as one that swam on Marcus as was the style, but on him it just swallowed him.  “Ah, Wrench, you are definitely in deep…”  He made his way to the bathroom.

 

He flipped on the light and turned on the water, holding his hands out for it and splashing his face.  He dried his face with a hand towel and forced his gaze to find himself in the mirror.

 

He hated looking at himself without his mask. The birthmark was always the first thing his eyes were drawn to, and then it stuck him on the rest of his face— he’d lived with this ugly mug his whole life, and now that his mask was gone, he was going to have to look at more and more.

 

Not that Marcus seemed to mind it.  The frown that tried to stay on his face gave way to another smile.  There wasn’t a single inch of this face that hadn’t been kissed by Marcus last night.  And if the marks on his neck were any indicator, those kisses didn’t stop at his face.  The elation filled him so deep that he forgot to hate the face that was grinning back at him.  He rubbed his hands quickly over his mussed hair, trying to either tame it or force it all to stick out evenly.  He took one last look at himself in the shirt and shut off the light, returning to the room.

 

He found some more clothing from Sitara’s shopping trip for him.  Everything was still a size or two too large, big that was to make room for his bandages and to make sure he was comfortable.  He didn’t mind.  He got shredded black jeans and a ripped band t-shirt out of the deal.  She’d even tracked down some spiked, leather wrist bands for him to throw on to feel more like himself.  He snapped them on and looked at his hands.  “Much better.”  He’d have to thank Sitara later if he remembered.

 

If she was even there.

 

The uneasy silence settled on Wrench again as he realised that he hadn’t heard anything since he’d woken up.  Were they even in the other room?  Was anyone over there?

 

Had the CIA found them?

 

Wrench’s heart tried to beat out of his chest.  He drew in shaky breaths and searched the room for his gun.  It wasn’t anywhere.  He racked his brain trying to remember where it had gone, but he didn’t have time for that if his friends were in danger.  He hurried to the door and grabbed the handle—

 

“-No he wasn’t.  I promise you he wasn’t.”  Marcus’ voice spilled through the door, and Wrench felt the grip on his heart lessen.  But he stayed in the room.

 

“None of us know what they did to him in there, Marcus.  And none of us know what this was doin’ to him.”  It was Ray he seemed to be arguing with.  Wrench’s hand clenched harder on the handle.

 

“Well it wasn’t giving him _instructions_ if that’s what you’re fucking thinking!”  As much as it sounded like shouting, it was hushed low, so Wrench wouldn’t hear it.

 

“When the hell did I say that’s what I thought?”

 

“You _implied_ it, Ray,” Marcus growled.

 

“I don’t want to argue about this…”  Josh sounded nervous and hurt.

 

“We’re not arguin’ kid, we’re discussing.  You all wanna keep pussy footin’ around this, but when I say the CIA knows what they’re doin’, they know what they’re doin’.”  Ray sighed.  “Now they let him go for a reason, and whatever this chip is for is probably why.”

 

Sitara groaned.  “I don’t understand why we can’t just ask him.”

 

Wrench yanked the door open.  Silence fell on the room again, and Josh immediately turned away, closing his eyes and covering his ears.  Wrench stared at Ray.  “Yeah, Ray.  Why don’t you just ask me?”  His voice carried a warning, and his gaze was poison.

 

Ray closed his eyes and sighed.  “Ah here we go…”

 

Wrench’s fists balled at his side.  “I thought you said you trusted me.”

 

“And I also said I don’t trust the CIA.”  Ray waved him over.  “You wanna be read in, don’t get mad, get over here.”

 

Wrench marched over with complete intent to punch Ray in the face, but Marcus stood up first and caught him.  “Come on, not now.”

 

“Then when!?  When can I kick his ass for being a two-faced piece of shit!?”

 

Sitara turned to Josh and pulled him against her in a hug to further shield him from the argument.  “Enough!  Everybody shut the hell up and talk about this like adults!”

 

Marcus kept his hands planted firmly on Wrench’s shoulder.  “Please.”  He gazed into his eyes.  “I wanna hit him, too, but we can’t split like this.  It’s what they want.”

 

Wrench pursed his lips and muffled a frustrated yell in Marcus’ shoulder.  Then he clapped one arm around Marcus and pulled away.  “Fine.  Where’s my fucking chair?”  Marcus dragged a chair over for Wrench, and as soon as he was seated, he sat on the edge of one of the beds nearest to him to keep a comforting hand on his shoulder.  Wrench felt Marcus’ thumb rub gentle circles into his shoulder blade, and if he hadn’t been so angry, he might have smiled.  Instead he kept his glare on Ray.  “Go.”

 

Sitara slowly let Josh go and rubbed his shoulders as he dropped his hands.  Ray turned his computer to Wrench.  “So our main concern with this thing was that they were using it to track you.  Turns out this thing can’t send signals of any kind for anybody to read.”  He gestured to the screen.  “It wasn’t built to be a beacon.  It was built to _receive_.”

 

Wrench watched the frequency recorded on the screen and narrowed his eyes at it.  “Receive what?”

 

Sitara bit her lip.  “That’s what we were hoping you could tell us.”

 

Wrench’s gaze jerked to Sitara.  “…You think _I_ was receiving something?  Sitara, I didn’t even know it was fucking there, I-…”  He paused.  He turned his gaze to the ground and hovered his hand over where the chip had been.  “…That’s what the ringing was.  I was right.”

 

Josh’s eyes flitted up for a second.  “He said when I removed it that he thought the chip was messing with his head.”

 

“I was seeing things,” Wrench admitted.  “I got really bad headaches and then there was this ringing in my ears and then… images.  Like when you’re dreaming and your mind makes shit up.”

 

Sitara leaned forward on her knees.  “What images?  Anything specific, or…?”

 

Wrench kept his gaze low and tried to remember everything he’d seen.  The image that was the loudest was that of Marcus screaming.  He couldn’t hear what he was saying, if anything, and he knew he’d never seen Marcus like it before.  The Marcus in the image had looked so broken and distraught…  Wrench shook his head to clear his mind of it.  “…Nothing helpful.”  He glared at his hands.  “Nothing that makes any sense.  Just like… intrusive memories of where I was, and fake shit that didn’t happen.”

 

“So you think they were just trying to drive you mad?”  Marcus asked, slipping his hand around Wrench’s waist.

 

Wrench flinched.  “Something like that…”  He gripped his head.  “…Or just trying to make me think of home.”

 

Josh’s head lifted.  “Home?”

 

“HQ.  When they were torturing me, they were trying to make me think about home, of where it was.  They were pulling images out of my head.”  Wrench turned his gaze to the chip, currently sitting wired into Ray’s computer.  “They must have sent me out with that in my head hoping I would either go home or… think it was safe to think about it.”

 

“Suzanne’s research.  Going into the human mind.”  Josh’s brow furrowed.  “That’s how they were using it.”

 

“To make up images to freak me out.”  Wrench leaned against Marcus more than he meant to.

 

Marcus frowned and rubbed Wrench’s arm with his free hand.  “You okay…?”

 

“No,” Wrench answered.

 

Sitara arched a brow at them and grinned, but she turned to Ray instead of commenting.  “So if they’re still beaming stuff to that chip, can you trace where it’s coming from?”

 

Ray smirked at her.  “Whatchu think I been doin’ over here, girl?”

 

Josh blinked at him.  “Finding reasons to accuse Wrench of being a spy?”

 

Ray rolled his eyes at him.  “I am being _cautious_.  Gonna say that one more time.”

 

Wrench glared at him for a moment, but it was weak and tired.  He gave a sigh.  “...Ray’s right,” He admitted.  “I’ve been compromised, and I need to start acting like it.”

 

“Wrench-” Marcus tried.

 

“No, I mean it.  He’s right.  I know what the fuck they did to me when I was awake, but I don’t have a fucking clue what they did when I was asleep.  I didn’t even know about that chip.”  He turned slowly to Ray.  “…I’m sorry, man.”

 

Ray held his hands up.  “Don’t be.  I get it.  You’re still not my biggest fan.  That, mixed with what you’ve been through, I’d think everybody was after me too.”

 

“But not us,” Sitara concluded, reaching out and taking Wrench’s hand.  “Never us.”

 

Wrench met her eyes for a moment before his nerves made him duck his head again.  “…Sorry.”  Sitara squeezed his hand.  Marcus did the same to his arm.

 

Sitara then turned her gaze to Ray.  “So, mister smartass.  You say you’ve been tracing the images back.  Do we have a location yet?”

 

“As a matter of fact,” Ray spun in his seat and brought up a map of the city, “We sure as fuck do.”

 

Sitara beamed.  Marcus let out a little ‘yeah!’ of celebration.  Even Josh smiled a bit.

 

Wrench’s gut twisted.  From the sounds of it, they were all about to go to the location and check it out.  There was an overwhelming need in Wrench’s chest to make them stop.

 

Marcus noticed.  “Wrench, you all right?  This is good.  We finally have some kinda location to work with.  I can go there and get some more intel.”

 

Wrench stared at the map.  Wherever the signal was coming from, it wasn’t where he’d been before.  Was it still safe to let them go there?  The answer was probably no, but he had a feeling there was no way to stop them.  “I’m going with you.”

 

The response was simultaneous.  Everyone’s voices started at once, citing his injuries, citing what he’d been through, but he tugged himself away from Marcus, and took a few steps back.  “Shut up!”  He stared at the ground.  “I can’t just sit here and do nothing.  And you can’t ask me to just let you go into the bowels of some other compound run by the people who _tortured_ me.  I can’t let anybody run into that alone.  I’m not fucking doing it.  If you make me stay, I’m busting out and following you.”  He stared at them in the silence that followed.  “Am I fucking clear or what?”

 

Sitara sighed and put her hands over her face.  “…Fine.  I’m going too.”  She stood up.

 

Marcus gave a deep sigh.  “I hate both of you.”  He stood up.  “We go in as a group.  We watch each other’s backs.  We do not split off from each other until we know it’s safe.”

 

Ray watched them all.  “We doin’ this today?”

 

Wrench shrugged.  “No better time.  The longer we wait, the longer they have to plan their next move.  And I’ll be damned if I live to see a future where Dusan gets to drive nails into anybody else.”

 

Sitara’s mouth drew into a thin line, like she was holding something back.  She ducked her head and had Wrench surrounded in her sweater in seconds.  “And we’ll be damned if you ever have to go through that again…”

 

Marcus smiled.  “Josh, see if you can get the feeds on this place if it’s got any.  You and Ray are on defense.”

 

“Understood.”  Josh turned to his computer and began his work.

 

Marcus opened a suitcase that was sitting by one of the beds and began pulling out weapons.  “Gear up.”

 

~

 

The location was a warehouse.  Marcus had pulled the car up just outside the chain link fence surrounding the building.  He huffed.  “What is it with shady bad guys and their abandoned warehouses?  I swear I been in them more than I been home.”

 

“I think it’s an aesthetic.  Very bad-guy-from-every-spy-movie-ever,” Wrench said.  “‘Before I kill you, mister Bond, I must first expose you to my unoriginal interior decorating skills’.”  He put on his best Russian accent.

 

Sitara laughed from the back seat.  “Admit it, you want an abandoned warehouse base.”

 

“Damn right I do.”

 

They exited the car and stared up at the building.  “Smaller than I thought,” Marcus said.

 

“Still potentially two floors full of agents though,” Sitara responded.  She pulled out the gun she was given and sighed.  “Been a while since I’ve been out in the field like this…  I’m usually more back-up than front lines.”

 

Wrench rubbed at his arm.  “You can hang back if you want.  You don’t have to be here.”

 

Sitara arched a brow at him and tilted her head, pony tail shifting behind her.  She cocked the gun.  “It was an observation, not a complaint.”  She grinned.  “After what they did to you, I’m not hanging back for anything.”

 

Wrench beamed at her.

 

Sitara’s grin softened.  “Wow…  I’ve always wondered what you would look like when you smiled.”

 

Wrench went tense.  “Oh yeah?  What’s your verdict then?”  He asked, trying to be playful to hide his nerves.

 

Sitara’s smile grew mischievous again.  “My verdict is that Marcus should have fucked you a long time ago.”

 

Wrench’s face turned a deep shade of red as he laughed, and Marcus flapped his hands between the two of them.  “Ey, ey, enough of that, you can talk shit when we get back.”  He held out a piece of cloth to her.  “Here.  Protect your face.”

 

“Yeah, I’d hate for them to assume Dedsec is behind the raid on their secret base dedicated to fucking with Dedsec.”  Still, she pulled the facemask over her head and then over her face.

 

Marcus snorted.  “It’s the principle of the thing, man.  CIA facial rec is no joke.”  He tossed her a pair of tinted glasses.  He turned to Wrench, who held his hand out, but he took it with his own and tugged it down.  He pulled the second facemask from his pocket and pulled it down over his head for him.

 

Wrench gave a shy laugh as Marcus moved his thumbs over his cheeks.  He tugged the mask back up over his mouth and nose and stared into his eyes.  “Stick close to me, okay?  I’m not losing you again.”

 

Wrench bit his lip, unseen with the mask in the way.  He was starting to feel a little more normal.  “You won’t.  I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Marcus leaned forward and expertly found Wrench’s lips through the fabric.  He pulled away after the kiss and slid another pair of shades onto Wrench’s face.  “Not on my watch.  Not again.”

 

Wrench sighed and ducked his head, lifting his hands to run along Marcus’ shoulders.

 

Sitara cleared her throat.  “As sweet as this is, we’re a bunch of masked vigilantes standing outside a secret government building.  We might wanna get a move on?”

 

Wrench scoffed and threw his arms around Marcus.  “Jealous.”

 

“Impatient.”  Sitara corrected.  “And I wanna bust some heads.”

 

Marcus chuckled and tugged away, running his fingers down Wrench’s arms and squeezing his hands in his.  “I second that motion.  You ready?”

 

“Absolutely.”  Wrench let his hands be dropped, and he pulled out his pistol.

 

“Oh hey, Wrench.”  Marcus popped the trunk.  “Holster that for a bit.  Brought you some big guns.”  He leaned on the trunk with a grin.

 

Wrench peered into the trunk and gave a slow gasp.  “ _Marcus…_   Did you get me grenade launcher?”

 

“I figured you’d like something heavier than some pistol.”

 

Wrench hefted the weapon in his hands and gave a squeal of glee.  “Is it too early to say I love you?  Because I think I love you.”

 

Marcus laughed.

 

The trunk was shut.  Marcus’ mask came up over his nose.  The trio set off.

 

“ _This compound doesn’t have much in the way of feeds, but it’s a pretty large, open area._ ”  Josh was in every one of their ears.  “ _And they’re not very good at other security protocols._ ”

 

Marcus’ phone buzzed, and he brought it out to see the feeds Josh was able to get them.  There were no wall mounted cameras, but a few of the laptops that were open had uncovered webcams.  There was even the occasional cell phone feed.  The building itself was mostly empty space save for two large shipping containers placed near the back wall that were being used to hold supplies.  Above that, up some grated stairs, was an office with frosted windows.  Marcus made note of the people in the lower level that he could see.  “Only seventeen, huh?”

 

“ _There are three bodies in the small office block up the stairs.  Odds are high that whoever is up there is important and might be able to answer our questions._ ”

 

“Got it.”  As they approached the wall, Marcus reached the bottom of a broken, empty window and peered over the edge.  He slipped his hand in and placed an explosive inside when no one was nearby.  He waved Wrench and Sitara after him, and he continued the process over the next three windows, throwing the explosives to the outside walls of the containers or on corners.  He tugged them down against the outside wall away from the blast radius.  “Ready?  It’s going down as soon as these blow.”

 

Wrench was giddy.  “Ready.”

 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Sitara said.

 

Marcus nodded and tapped into the frequencies of the mines, turning them all to proximity blasts.  He set them all to lure and tucked Sitara and Wrench under his arms.

 

“What’s that?”  They heard a curious agent ask.

 

Then, an explosion.  Panic ensued inside the building, and the rest of the charges inevitably went off as people ran to see what had happened, taking however many agents with them.

 

“Go!”  Marcus cried.

 

They stood, weapons drawn, and climbed in through the windows.  They hurried down the hallway created by the containers, stepping around some of the six agents caught in the blasts.

 

Wrench rounded the turn between the containers and took aim.  “Lucy, I’m home!”  He fired off one grenade into the centre of the open space full of agents.  He ducked out of the way of the ensuing explosion.  He heard a gun go off over his head, and he looked up to see Sitara aimed.  He glanced down the hall and saw a fallen guard.

 

“Got your back, Wrench!”  She said, ruffling his hair.

 

Wrench snickered.  “You always do.”

 

There was a distinct sound inside the container of guards taking cover within it.  Wrench grinned and moved in the direction of the door.  “Hey Marcus!  Spare a bomb?”  He called back.  Marcus plucked one from his pocket and lobbed it to Wrench.  Then turned back around to continue helping Sitara keep cover fire.  Wrench rounded the end of the container where the doors were and chucked the mine inside, slamming the doors shut.  “Fire in the hole!”  He ducked back around.

 

Marcus detonated the charge without even looking.  The container rattled but ultimately held its shape.  “How many more, Josh?”  Marcus asked.

 

“ _You’re down to four below.  It doesn’t seem like the three upstairs are leaving._ ”

 

“Show yourselves!”  Came the cry from an agent on the other side of the container.  “You kids are in a lot of trouble!  This is the US government you’re messing with!”

 

Marcus leaned against the wall and checked his feeds, scanning the agents he could see.  He smirked and hacked his phone.  “Hey I getcha man, but… is that a Note 7 in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

 

They listened as the man gave a confused noise.  Then he panicked.  Then there was another explosion.

 

“ _Three on three,_ ” Josh said.

 

Sitara checked her phone and pulled open the magazine of her gun.  “Damn.  Out.”

 

Marcus went for his pockets.  “Here, I got-”

 

“Nah.  I’m good.”  She dropped her gun and stretched out her neck.  Then she ran past the divide between the containers to the other side of the warehouse.

 

“Sitara!”  Marcus went to bolt after her, but gunfire filled the gap, keeping him from crossing.

 

Sitara grabbed the corner of the container and swung herself around and out of sight.  There was a grunt from an agent and more gunfire.

 

Wrench’s heart froze.  “Marcus, we have to do something!”

 

“I know I know!”  Marcus tried to bring up the feeds, but a lot of them were being damaged from the firefight.  “I can’t fucking see anything!”  He moved to stand, but the bullets continued streaming between the containers.  He dropped back and pressed Wrench into the container.  “Sitara!  Fucking say something!”  The shots continued but were no longer blocking the path, but Marcus was afraid to leave their safety.  There was no response.

 

Then it was silent.  Marcus kept watch on the corner where Sitara disappeared.  Wrench held tightly to his arm.

 

There was a click behind them.  Wrench turned and locked eyes with an agent who’d snuck around the backside, eyes narrowed and gun pointed—

 

— Directly at Marcus.

 

Wrench shoved Marcus’ arm out of the way and splayed himself wide in the way of the shot.

 

“Wrench!”  Marcus nearly shrieked.

 

A white clad foot swung out of nowhere and clocked the man in the back of the head.  The gun fired, but well off its mark and into a wall, and he turned to see his attacker.  Sitara grabbed his tie and threw her body into the turn, slamming his face into the metal wall.  His head snapped back.  He dropped to the floor.

 

Sitara panted and dusted herself off.  “Well that was exhilarating.”  She must have smiling.  Wrench could hear it in her voice.

 

Wrench chest heaved as he collapsed against the wall.  Marcus quickly bounced up to check him.  “Were you hit?”

 

Wrench held his hand up to him.  “Marcu-”

 

“Were you _hit_?”  Marcus demanded.

 

Wrench shook his head.

 

Marcus grabbed his shirt and yanked him into a tight hug.  “Don’t ever fucking do that, man,” He said into the top of his head.

 

Wrench held back just as tightly.  “Not about to let you get shot, M.”  He pulled back and reached for his face.  “Me, I’ve been through worse.”

 

Marcus sighed.  He then glared at Sitara.  “Why the hell didn’t you answer me when I called you?”  He sounded stern, but he was relaxing.

 

Sitara rolled her eyes.  “And give away my position?”  She crossed her arms.  “Oh ye of little faith.”

 

Marcus groaned.  “Girl, you went headlong into a gun fight without even a _knife_ , and you don’t think I need to be worried?”

 

Marcus lead them into the open area of the warehouse.  There was chaos all over the ground, including bodies of the two other agents Sitara had taken out, tossed about in various uncomfortable looking positions.  Wrench snorted.  “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

 

“ _Sitara, are you okay?  We lost the feeds, I’m blind now._ ”

 

Sitara beamed so bright, Wrench could see it past the mask.  “I’m fine babe.  Don’t worry about me.”

 

“ _That’s very difficult._ ”

 

Wrench smirked behind his mask.  Sitara must have felt it, because she was smacking him in the shoulder as she walked past.  “Hey, you got your meadow to run through; I have mine.”

 

The made their way to the two-level stairs and scaled them slowly so they wouldn’t make any noise.  Through the frosted glass, they could barely make out the figures inside, but two of them were aimed and ready at the door.

 

Marcus motioned for Wrench to keep his weapon ready and for him and Sitara to stay low.  Wrench did as he was told, and Sitara hung back.  Marcus crouched below the window of the door and pulled his monkey fist out, swinging it once for weight and grabbing the door knock.  Wrench took aim.

 

The door opened, and the first man took a step, firing blindly forward.  Marcus swung the monkey fist around the man’s wrist and yanked him out of the room, spinning and tossing him over the handrail head first into the ground.  Before the second man could react, Wrench plugged him once in the face and immediately stomped up the stairs and into the room, taking aim at the last inhabitant.

 

There, seated in a swivel chair with his hands raised in surrender, was Dusan Nemec.  “Parley?”  He offered with a smile.

 

Wrench’s insides went cold.

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeey, checking in. Obviously this is a bit late, but I'm running off of a hot spot on my struggling phone. I'm apparently not going to have power in my house until Friday, but I'm going to try and get as much done as possible until then. So, there might be a slight pause here, but I'm gonna try to have the next chapter up soon. 8V


	13. Vertigo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SORRY FOR THE DELAY.
> 
> I was assaulted with some serious writer's block there for a minute, but I plowed through! I don't wanna make any promises on the next chapter because I don't trust my head to not be an asshole, but as soon as I dinner tonight, I'm gonna start it.
> 
> But first I need a nap.

“I tried to tell them it was pointless defending me, I really did.  But, you know, what can you do?”  Dusan shrugged.

 

Wrench’s wide furious eyes stayed locked on Dusan, as did his gun.  He yanked his mask down to his neck and threw his sunglasses on the floor.  “You smug son of a bitch…!”

 

Marcus and Sitara were inside in seconds.  Marcus grabbed a hold of Wrench’s arm.  “Easy…”

 

Wrench yanked his arm away and glared at Marcus.  “No.  No, you do not get to take this from me!  He deserves to die!”

 

Marcus went to retort, but Dusan beat him to it.  “Ah, but you need me alive, don’t you?  Can’t get information from a corpse.”

 

Wrench went to rush him, but Marcus caught him mid-flight.  “Wrench, he deserves a lot of shit, and I promise you when we get what we need from him, we’ll drop him in the bay in pieces.  Okay?”  He tugged his own mask down.  “But he’s been near the root of this problem with the CIA, and we need him to tell us what he knows.”  He rubbed Wrench’s arms up and down gently to coax his gun-wielding hand to relax.

 

“The threat of death is making me much less likely to cooperate, I hope you realise that.”  Dusan leaned back in the chair, looking sure of his own words.

 

Marcus’ face grew irritated.  He patted Wrench’s hand to remind it to stay down and turned to face him.  “After what you did to Wrench, you’re lucky I don’t let him shoot you a couple times in the face.”

 

Sitara stood in the doorway, mask down and glasses pushed upward past her forehead, with a grimace on her face.  “…Guys…?  I think…  I think we have to let him live.”

 

Wrench turned to her like she’d just offended him.  “Sitara-!”

 

“Don’t ‘Sitara’ me!  I want him out of our lives as much as the next guy, but he won’t talk if we just kill him when we’re done.”  Sitara rubbed her forehead in frustration.

 

Wrench could have snarled at her.  “You can’t be fucking serious.  First Ray, now _you_ -”

 

“Hey!  Don’t lump me with him just because someone’s got to play the devil’s advocate!”  She glared at Dusan.  “You get to live.  Now start talking.”

 

Dusan chuckled at her, and Wrench watched her shoulders go tense.  “Oh no.  Not to you.”  His eyes searched the three of them and landed squarely on Wrench, making his blood freeze in his veins.  “I’m only going to talk to Wrench.  No Marcus, no Sitara, no little bugs in your ears.”  He tilted his head.  “Those are my terms.”

 

Sitara pursed her lips.  But she backed away.  She cracked her knuckles and turned to the door.  “I’ll go keep watch out front and make sure this isn’t some trap…”

 

Wrench’s anger left and only his terror remained.  “W-…Wait.”

 

Marcus’ glare was boring holes through the man’s skull.  The gun in his hand shifted as his arm went tense, and he kept his free hand cupped around Wrench’s own.  Slowly, he let go and took a few steps forward, standing just over Dusan’s seated form.

 

Dusan regarded him with that same, pleased smile.  “Are you deciding whether you want to just go ahead and kill me, Marcus?”

 

Marcus glance down at the gun in his hand.  “Nah.  Just trying to remember my anatomy class.”  He pointed the gun over Dusan’s leg and fired.

 

The bullet ripped through skin and muscle, but it managed to wedge itself firmly into the bone.  Dusan’s cry of agony filled the room, and he almost toppled out of the chair.  He gripped the arms of it and forced himself to breathe through the pain, tossing his head back.

 

Marcus smirked at him.  “That’s a warning shot.  If you do anything we don’t like, the next one goes in your throat, and we watch you choke on it.”

 

Dusan forced himself to sit up with a laboured, shaky laugh.  “Underst-…stood…”

 

Marcus returned to Wrench then, and Wrench was shaking his head.  “Marcus, no.  I can’t do this, I c-can’t be alone with him.”

 

Marcus reached up and caught his face.  “You _can_ do this.  He can’t get at you with that hole in his leg.  He doesn’t have any weapons, or tools.  You still have your gun and the upper hand.”  He ran his thumbs along Wrench’s temples to try and sooth him.  “If he gets uppity, you put another one in his shoulder.  You’re gonna be fine.” He dared to press a kiss to Wrench’s birthmark with Dusan watching.  He carefully took the comm out of Wrench’s ear before rubbing his back and walking away.  “I’m just gonna be on the stairs.  You yell if you need me, and I’ll be up in seconds.”

 

Wrench watched Marcus make his way through the door and give Dusan one last warning glare before letting it click shut behind him.  Wrench’s stare was frozen on the door.

 

“So.”

 

Wrench’s hand rose before he could think, and his rabbit stare and gun were both locked on Dusan.

 

Dusan rolled his eyes and gestured at his new wound.  “Come on now.  We’re even.”

 

“We are _not_ fucking even,” Wrench warned, stepping closer and never losing his aim.  “We’re even when I put out six cigarettes on your body.  We’re _even_ when I hammer twelve nails into your fucking legs!”

 

“Oh were you keeping count?”  Dusan looked pleased again, even if he was a little paler now and a bit shaky.

 

“I counted everything.  I know how many knives you went through, I know how many different tables of tools you went through because they were all dented or fucked up differently depending on what you did to me when you had them.  I know how many coffee breaks you needed, and I know that you only drink French vanilla.”  Wrench narrowed his eyes.  “And I know that you know what Greenwood is doing.  And you’re gonna fucking tell me.”

 

Dusan eyed him over folded hands with a measure of amusement and disappointment.  “Of course I do.  Project Juno.”

 

Wrench flinched at how quickly he was told.  “What the hell is that?”

 

Dusan tilted his head and arched a brow.  “You were briefed.”

 

Wrench’s heartbeat was a hum.  “What the fuck are you talking about!?”

 

Dusan stared in confusion for a few seconds before something dawned on him.  “Ah.  I see.  The good doctor didn’t do her _damn_ job.”

 

Wrench’s hand began to tremble.  “S-Suzanne helped me escape…  She helped me get away from you!”

 

“Well that’s inconvenient,” Dusan sighed.  “I guess we’ll have start a little later than scheduled.”  He gave a pained grunt and pulled himself to sit up straighter in the chair.  He caught Wrench’s gaze and stared into him with all the intensity of the sun.  “ _Vertigo._ ”

 

Wrench’s head exploded.  The ringing returned tenfold, and his vision blurred.  He stumbled backward and struggled to keep his gun aimed.  “W-What the f-fuck are you-…”  His breath left him.  He felt sick.

 

“You know what you’re supposed to be doing out there.  We didn’t let you _go_ to keep messing with our plans.  You _are_ the plan.”

 

Wrench backed against the frosted glass as his head felt like it was splitting in two.  “S-St-… Stop it…  I esc-… escaped…”  He couldn’t force his voice louder than a whisper.  He slid down the wall.

 

Dusan laughed.  “You honestly think we’d have left you alone with no one but the _doctor_ guarding you?”

 

Wrench’s aim was wavering.  He wanted to hyperventilate, but he couldn’t draw enough breath.  “D-…Didn’t _l-let_ me-…”

 

“We did.  It was all part of the plan.  A plan _you_ helped us with.  We’ve had many discussions about your friends while you were activated, you and I.  A few with Greenwood as well.”  Dusan’s smirk, barely visible through Wrench’s fog, was all teeth.  “You were very thorough.  You knew exactly what they’d do.”

 

Wrench pulled in all the air he could.  “STOP!”  He shrieked, praying that Marcus could hear it.

 

Dusan leaned forward in his chair.  “You were supposed to be here, _Wrench_.”

 

Wrench’s gun fired.  Dusan’s head snapped back, and he slumped out of the chair and into the floor.

 

The door slammed open next.  Marcus was right.  He was up in seconds.  “Wrench, what happened!?”

 

Wrench’s head was blissfully quiet.  He could breathe now, but he was swallowing air like he’d never known what it was.  The gun in his hands was unsteady and rattling, but the hole between Dusan’s eyes was expertly placed.  He barely remembered pulling the trigger.  Instead, all he could recall was a desperate need to keep Dusan from saying anything else.

 

Marcus settled on his knees next to Wrench hovering his hands over the shaking gun and gently peeling Wrench’s fingers free of it.  He glanced at Dusan’s unmoving form before turning his full attention back to Wrench.  “Babe, talk to me.  What happened?”

 

Wrench was trembling in his hold, eyes never leaving the body of Dusan.  “I had-… I had t-to ki- I had to kill him, he-… he was trying to get to- get into my head, I h-had to kill him, I-”

 

Marcus slid to sit next to him and curled around him, pulling him against his chest and keeping his head tucked safety away in his jacket.

 

Sitara was at the top of the stairs faster than she should have been able to.  She saw her friends curled up immediately, and Dusan caught her attention once she was inside.  She frowned, swallowed her nerves, and looked back at the two of them.  “…What the hell happened?”

 

Marcus soothed Wrench’s hair down.  “…This was a bad idea,” He whispered into the top of Wrench’s head.

 

~

 

Wrench chose to sit in the back seat on the way home.  He laid down with his legs bent and stared at the ceiling, trying to separate from himself.  He was scared.  He wanted Dusan to have been lying. He wanted it to have been an unfortunately successful scare tactic to keep Wrench from asking more questions.  But he knew, with the return of the ringing, and the headache that was still claiming land in his brain, the odds were high that he wasn’t.

 

‘ _Don’t go home._ ’

 

Wrench squeezed his eyes shut as Suzanne’s warning plowed through his head again.  She had been the one who was supposed to say that word to him.  She had been the one who was supposed to ‘activate’ him, whatever that meant.  Had it even worked?  Wrench still felt like himself.

 

But the various times he’d almost pulled a weapon on his friends were burning at the forefront of his mind.  He _was_ a danger to them.  Was it even safe for him to be there?  What could he do?

 

He could tell Marcus.  Marcus, who’s hand was back between the seats and fingers laced with Wrench’s own, holding him and grounding him.  Marcus would know what to do.

 

They arrived back at the hotel and climbed the stairs to their rooms.  It was barely midday, but all Wrench wanted to do was curl up onto the bed and sleep.  He was so tired…

 

Ray met them at the door.  “Well that was a shitshow.”

 

“Not now, Ray,” Marcus warned, walking Wrench by the arm over to one of the beds.  Sitara moved to Josh’s side like a magnet.

 

Wrench kept his gaze on the floor.  He didn’t want to look at anybody.

 

“We didn’t have enough intel again.  We weren’t prepared for that.  We should have tried to find out who was in that damn building before we sent anybody into it.”  Ray continued anyway, arms crossed.

 

“Why do you have to do this now?”  Sitara asked, sounding just as frustrated as Ray.  She had her hand on Josh’s shoulder.

 

“Because something could have gone wrong!”  Ray uncrossed his arms and his hands clenched at his sides.  “Something _did_ go wrong!”  He turned to where Wrench was sat and marched straight for him.

 

Marcus stood and got in his way.  “Ray, I swear to god.”

 

“Move,” Ray demanded.

 

“This is not his fault.”

 

“I know that!”  Ray took an aged breath.  “Let me see to ‘im, dammit.”

 

Marcus closed his eyes and backed away.  He sat beside the shivering mechanic, and Ray crouched down in front of him.  He waited until Wrench’s eyes barely lifted and met his.  “You okay, kid?”

 

Wrench snorted.  “R-Really wish people would stop asking me that…”

 

“I gotta know where your head’s at.”  Ray lifted a hand to his arm and held it carefully; He wasn’t sure where Wrench’s injuries were under the shirt.  “You never shoulda been left in that room with that fuck by yourself.  That ain’t somethin’ you should have had to deal with so soon.  It’s okay, what you did, awright?  It’s okay you couldn’t get anything.  We can get info from somewhere else.”

 

Wrench stared at him in confusion.  This was the most understanding he’d ever seen the old man.  He found himself wondering where this side was coming from, but that thought was interrupted by another; He _did_ get something.  He had information.  Why couldn’t he force it off his tongue?  “P-…” His head pounded.  “Pr-Project Juno,” He finally managed.  “I didn’t… I didn’t leave with nothing.  I just don’t have a fucking clue what it is.”  The pain in his head remained.

 

Ray stared for a moment in shock before turning away.  “Josh?”

 

Josh was ready at his computer.  “It’s not much, but I can work with that.”

 

Ray smiled and rubbed Wrench’s shoulders.  “Good job, kid!”  He gave a relieved sigh and stood up again, ruffling Wrench’s hair.  “It was still too damn early to leave you alone with the guy, but ya did good.”

 

Wrench waved his hands away and leaned against Marcus.  Marcus wrapped his arm around him on reflex.  He felt… tense.

 

Wrench slowly shifted in his hold and looked up at him.  “…Marcus?”

 

Marcus flinched.  He seemed to be debating something.  “…I bet you’re tired.”

 

Wrench shrugged.  “Yeah, but-”

 

“No buts.  After that shit, you’re laying down.”  Marcus stood and took Wrench’s hand tugging him from the bed.  It occurred to Wrench that Marcus seemed to be avoiding his eyes.  Something in Wrench’s chest twisted.

 

Ray waved at them as they left.  “You take a load off.  Josh and I’ll look into Project Juno.  Sitara, lay down.”

 

“Wha-” SItara tried to argue.

 

“You were in that mess too, get some rest,” Ray said, giving her a pointed look.  “We’ll let you know when we’ve found something.”

 

Sitara sighed and crossed her arms.  “Why can’t I help you search?  I don’t wanna just sit here feeling useless.”

 

Ray hummed.  He walked to Sitara and leaned by her ear, saying something Wrench couldn’t hear.

 

Sitara rolled her eyes.  “Fine.  I get it.  But if you can use my code for _anything_ , wake me up.”  She squeezed Josh’s shoulder and leaned away from the table, moving to the nearest bed.

 

Wrench gave Ray a wary eye as they dipped into the second room.  Marcus shut the door behind them.  He let them walked only a few steps inside before he stepped ahead of Wrench and pulled him into an alarmingly desperate embrace.  Wrench hardly had room to return it, but with enough shifting, he snuggled up and let his face disappear into the crook of Marcus neck.  He listened to Marcus’ breathing as his chest pressed against him, and it was deep and hollow, like he was forcing it to stay steady.  That chest jumped as Marcus chuckled, though it was bitter.  “…Now I’m doing it.”

 

Wrench frowned and leaned back enough to look at him.  “Doing what?”

 

“Not trusting our friends…”  Marcus sighed, keeping his fingers laced behind Wrench’s back.  “Ray was right.  You shouldn’t have been in there alone.  I shouldn’t have left you with him.”

 

Wrench bit his lip.  “Don’t do that.  M, you did everything you could to keep me safe.”

 

“No, apparently I didn’t.”  He moved his hands to Wrench’s face, cradling it like he was made of glass.  “You still got hurt.  He still fucked with you so bad you had to shoot him.  It’s barely been a day since you got outta that fucking place, and I abandoned you in a room with the guy who _tortured_ you for a month.  You even told me you couldn’t do it, and I didn’t fucking… listen.”

 

Wrench lips drew into a tight line.  He needed to tell him what happened in that room.  He had to tell him what Dusan had said, but… would he just keep blaming himself?  “Marcus, shut the fuck up a minute.”  He grabbed at his collar and pulled him into another kiss, soft and undemanding.  He pulled away and found his eyes.  “I shouldn’t have been there at all.  And that was _my_ fault.  I was the one who decided to go back out there so soon.  I was the idiot.  Everything that happened after that had nothing to do with you and everything to do with my fucked up head.”

 

“You’re not fucked up, Wrench.”  Marcus rested their foreheads together.

 

Wrench snorted.  “If you’d seen my nudle search history, dude, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

 

Marcus’ laugh was a short release of nervous energy, and Wrench felt his stress-solid body give way.  He felt Marcus’ thumbs massaging circles in the small of his back.  He tried to focus on that, and not the pounding in his head.  Marcus sighed.  “…I’m sorry.”

 

Wrench huffed.  “If you apologise for one more fucking thing, I swear-”

 

“I just _mean_ ,” He took a breath and pulled away to tug Wrench toward the bed.  They were supposed to be resting after all.  “…That I’m sorry it took so long for _us_ to happen.”  He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor.  “Whatever ‘us’ is right now.  It’s not fair to you, or either of us that it took until you were fucking tortured for me to get off my ass and do something.”

 

Wrench stood a little longer.  Marcus had pulled him by his hand, but he never let go when he sat down.  Wrench wanted his hand to exist is Marcus’ for as long as it could.  “You act like you were the only one who should’ve said something.”  He caved in and crawled onto the bed, straddling Marcus’ hips and wrapping his arms around his neck.  “Because you’re sitting there like you don’t realise how fucking long I’ve been into you.”

 

Marcus arched a brow at him and gave him a tentative smirk.  “How long is that?”

 

Wrench shrugged.  “So long I can’t actually tell you?  I don’t even know.  It was just… there one day, like ‘Hey, here’s a healthy dose of potential-friendship-ruining-crush-on-your-best-friend by the way.  Have fun with that.’”  He ducked his head.  “I just never said anything.  Didn’t think you played for that team, I guess.”

 

“Ey, I play for whatever team’ll have me.  I just hope I get to stick with this one for a while.”

 

Wrench smiled.  He watched Marcus’ grin get bigger.  “Well the coach says you’re too valuable a player to let any other team have you.”

 

Marcus’ smiled waned a bit.  “…I just wish we could do this at home…”

 

Wrench tilted his head.  “Eh.  It’s an away game.”  He pulled back to tug on the new shirt.  “We’re even in away uniforms.  Which are nice and all, don’t get me wrong; Sitara’s got a good eye.  But man, I miss my bench.”

 

‘ _D̯͔o̻͇n̕’̟̣̺t͖͓̝̖̙̩ ̲̖̰ͅg̮̬͔̣o̼͍͈̝̩̮̺̕ ̱̳̹̗̳̯h̵͚̫o̩̜̠m̗͙̫̬e._ ’

 

Wrench flinched, trying to ignore his headache.  He sucked in a breath and held onto Marcus’ shoulders in case he grew dizzy.  “…We’ll go home soon, right?”  The ringing began again in his ears, low like a distant surge of power.

 

Marcus nodded.  “Once we know we’re clear.  I’m not bringin’ you anywhere near HQ until I know they ain’t gonna be waiting there to scoop you up again.”  He rubbed his hands up Wrench’s sides.  “You okay?”

 

Wrench ducked his head.  “Yeah, I just… have a headache.”  He gave him a grin.  “Guess I gotta get used to being around explosions again.”

 

Marcus chuckled.  “Yeah, isn’t that like a major facet of your personality?  Things exploding?  That’s kind of important.”  His hands gripped Wrench’s hips, and Wrench found himself airborne.  He gave a yelp as Marcus swung him down on his back onto the bed on his back.  His head was cradled and laid amongst the pillows, and Marcus leaned down to give him one more hungry kiss before he rolled off of the bed to get him some medicine.

 

Wrench watched him leave with a dumb smile, matching the emptiness Marcus’ kisses left in his mind.  He sighed and snuggled into the bedding, giving the ceiling his love-heavy stare.  How had he gotten so lucky?

 

Was it _good_ luck?

 

As his mind’s gears started turning again, Dusan’s words filled his head first.  He traced the stain on the ceiling with his eyes as his face grew blank and his thoughts went numb.  He was cold, but his body wouldn’t shiver.  He sat up in the bed and let his gaze wander wherever it was headed, and it found the door between their rooms.  Why had Ray been so secretive before?  Why did he feel like he needed to keep things from Wrench?  What did he think he knew?

 

Wrench found his frustration bubbling over again.  His head blurred as the bitterness took over.  Who did Ray think he was?  He was the last person to join their crew, and he didn’t even go through the same tests everyone else did.  Could they really trust him?  Because as the days rolled on, Wrench was trusting him less and less.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

Marcus’ words snapped him out of his fog.  He blinked and found that he was still staring at the door, but it was much closer now.  He’d stood up at some point and was making his way toward the next room, and he hadn’t even realised what he was doing.  He turned to him slowly and tried to hide the concern on his face.  “…I just wanted to know how they were doing.”  Why was he lying?  Why couldn’t he tell Marcus that something was wrong?

 

“It’s been like ten minutes, man.”  Marcus set the water and pills on the side table and walked toward him.  “I know you want this to be over, but this is gonna take time.  If we do find somewhere to get the info we need, we’re probably gonna have to send somebody in to plant a virus.  It’s not gonna be easy.”  He caught his arm and didn’t notice how tense it was, leading him back to the bed.  “Come on.  I just got you back.  I want me some time with you before we go off to war.”

 

Wrench felt his body grow less numb in Marcus’ hold.  It was like body-wide pins and needles as he walked away from wherever the hell he’d been going, like it was a foreign action he wasn’t used to.  He was sat on the bed and handed his pills and water.  He took them blankly, solely to appease Marcus; His head seemed to have stopped hurting already.

 

Marcus parked himself next to him.  “How’s your leg?”

 

Wrench glanced down at it as the numb feeling wore away.  “Sore.  But I did have a fucking scalpel lodged in there, so.  Probably to be expected.”

 

Marcus sighed and threw his arms around Wrench. He flopped them backward onto the bed, pulling another playful yelp from Wrench. Once they were horizontal, Wrench rolled onto his side, legs still dangling over the edge of the bed, to gaze at Marcus.  There was something about his presence that was keeping his head clear.  Something about Marcus kept his head where it needed to be.  He had to hold onto that.

 

Marcus pushed his fingers through the short hair on the back of Wrench’s head.  Wrench hummed at the feeling and let his eyes drift closed.

 

“You’re gonna hurt if you fall asleep like that,” Marcus warned.

 

“Well who the hell put us here?”  Wrench grinned a him.

 

Marcus snorted and sat up.  He slipped his arms under Wrench’s body and tugged him up the bed to the pillows, yanking the blanket over them.  There was sunlight in the room screened through the light curtain, but it was still soft, and it was quiet.  Wrench was exhausted enough that he could easily sleep despite the time.  Marcus settled under the covers beside him and grinned.  “There.  Now quit your bitching.”

 

“I’ll bitch as much as I want if you’re gonna manhandle me like that.”  Wrench teased, slinking forward and letting his limbs wrap around Marcus’ sturdy body.

 

“Are you complaining _that_ I’m manhandling you, or complaining that I’m not manhandling you enough?” Marcus asked, collecting the koala of a mechanic in his arms.

 

Wrench snuggled into the hold and buried his face in Marcus’ neck again, inhaling slowly.  “I’ll take ‘never enough’ for 500, Alex.”

 

Marcus pressed Wrench against him until every inch of Wrench that he could stretch himself around was within his grasp.  “Then I guess I can't ever let you go, huh?”

 

Wrench bit his lip.  He curled in further.  He let his hands splay across the warm expanse of Marcus’ back, and he tried not to focus on how that heat couldn’t reach his bones.  He tried not to focus on how his body itched to leave the room and do _something_ he couldn't stop unless Marcus was there tethering him.  “So don’t,” He whispered, his desperation coming through.

 

Marcus’ fingertips bent inwards and pressed dimples in Wrench’s skin.  “I won’t.”

 

~


	14. Disrupted

Wrench woke to the knocking on the door between their rooms.  He hadn’t been released from his embrace, and he didn’t want to move, but the knocking continued.

 

“Come on boys, get decent!”  Came Ray’s voice through the door.

 

Marcus groaned, and his sleep-lax muscles tensed around Wrench and pulled him close again.  Wrench snorted and let his hands slide along Marcus’ sides, tickling him.  “Hey, I can’t be the one waking up first.  That’s just weird,” Wrench said.

 

Marcus mumbled something that reverberated through the top of Wrench’s head and slowly untangled himself from him.  He groaned as he sat up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed and stared at the window beside them where the sun was setting just beyond the glass.  Wrench fought a laugh as he watched Marcus struggle to rouse fully.

 

Wrench sat up himself and shifted behind Marcus, wrapping his arms around his chest and hanging his head over his shoulder.  “I might just become an early riser if I get to see you this fucking cute in the morning.”

 

Marcus finally laughed even if it was short and broken by a yawn.  “Yeah, this is why my ass is already two cups of coffee in when you wake up.”  He turned his head and pressed his nose behind Wrench’s ear.  “But shit, if this is what I get to wake up to, I think I might just start sleepin’ in.”

 

Wrench let his fingertips dig into Marcus’ chest, and he held on a little tighter.  He was anxious.  With the events of the morning still fresh, and the disturbing hum of uncertainty.  How long would he have this?  How long were they safe in this new existence?  “…It’s not too early, is it?”  He asked, repeating his earlier sentiment in a more nervous light.

 

“For what?”

 

Wrench kept his face hidden in his shoulder.  “…To say I love you.”

 

Marcus was quiet for a while, but he didn’t move from his position tucked behind his ear which Wrench hoped was a good thing.  Marcus eventually gave a soft sigh that tickled his neck, and Wrench felt his lips smile against it.  “No, it’s not.”

 

Wrench went lax and nearly shoved him off of the bed with his added weight. “Jesus Christ, leave a guy hanging why don’t you!?”

 

Marcus laughed.  “I’m sorry!  I just wasn’t expecting that, that’s all!”  He turned to sit sideways and caught Wrench as he tumbled forward into his arms.  “You always struck me as the type to not… get attached I guess.”

 

Wrench snorted.  “Are you accusing me of having commitment issues?”

 

“Man, shut up.”  Marcus helped Wrench sit up and left his hand on the small of his back.  “…For what it’s worth, me too.”

 

Wrench felt his heart thud in his chest, but he still smirked and arched a brow at him.  “You have commitment issues?”

 

“God dammit, Wrench.”  Marcus put his hand over his face and shoved him back onto the bed.  Wrench laughed the whole way down and only stopped when his shoulders were pinned by the frustrated hacker.  Marcus, sans glasses or any hint of sarcasm, stared into him like he was looking at the brightest night sky.  “I love you too.”

 

Wrench’s breathing stopped.

 

The knocking returned on the door.  “Ey, put it back in your pants, we got work to do!”  Came Ray’s frustrated bellowing.

 

Marcus sighed and dropped his head to Wrench’s shoulder.  “Motherfucking duty calls…”

 

Wrench drew in enough air to give a high-pitched laugh and patted Marcus’ back.  “But then later, booty calls.  It’s not all bad.”

 

The smile that spread on Marcus’ face when he pulled his head away gave Wrench more life than the sun.  Marcus’ laugh filled his chest with frantic butterflies.  “Well that’s a promise I’m holding you to.”  He kissed him again, fast and deep, and pulled away, pushing off of the bed and pulling Wrench from it as well.

 

They made their way, hand in hand, to the door and into the other room where Sitara seemed to be gearing up for something, stuffing a bag with small explosives.  She smiled at them as they entered.  “I’m gonna remind you once that this is a cheap hotel, and these walls are thin.”

 

Wrench parked himself in a chair.  “I wonder what the guests in 221 rate us then?”

 

Sitara snorted.  “Pretty sure the peanut gallery also includes everybody on the first floor.”

 

“All right, all right,” Marcus interrupted, arms crossed and looking sheepish.  “We’re up for a reason, where we goin’?”

 

Ray moved away from the closet he was digging through and handed Marcus a bag.  “Got same names for ya.  You and Sitara are gonna go huntin’.”

 

Marcus grabbed the bag as Ray walked away from him.  “We got a name?”

 

“Names,” Josh corrected, seated in his corner with government files open on the screen.  “At least two right now.”

 

Sitara shouldered her bag.  “We're tag-teaming,” She said to Marcus.

 

Wrench sat tense in his chair, folding his hands together and leaning on them.  “…And I’m not going?”

 

There was a heavy silence on the room as everyone turned to him.  Ray crossed his arms and inhaled slowly.  “No, you’re not.  That’s why I made Sitara rest, so she could go.”

 

Wrench waved a hand at him. “Don’t get all defensive old man, I get it.  I’m not gonna get angry.”  He sighed and sat back in his chair.  “I’m kinda liking the idea of safety right now anyway…”

 

Marcus swung his bag on his back and made his way to Wrench, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him forward to kiss him.  He pulled back and smiled.  “And I’d rather you be safe too.  You need to give those wounds some time to heal up.”

 

Wrench managed a smile in return.  “No, _you_ be safe.  Tell those mother fuckers that if anything happens to you, I will personally find them and drag them down Golden Gate Bridge behind a car going ninety.”

 

Marcus snickered.  “All right, easy.”  He kissed him again and backed away.  “Inconspicuous, remember?”

 

“Yeah, yeah.”  Wrench bit his tongue with a grin.  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

 

Marcus laughed at him.  “So anything goes, got it!”

 

Sitara opened her laptop and logged into it, turning it and planting it in Wrench’s lap.  “You get to be defence this time.  See what other info you can get.”  She pointed a finger at him.  “No snooping.”

 

Wrench snapped his fingers.  “Dammit.”

 

She squinted at him and moved on to Josh.

 

Josh stood up as soon as her hand was on his shoulder.  Wrench watched Sitara press a kiss to Josh’s forehead and saw the subsequent smile that crept onto Josh’s face after.  He heard Josh barely manage a request for Sitara to be careful, and she gathered him in her arms, letting him hide in her shoulder for a moment.

 

“I’ll be fine, Josh,” She promised.

 

“I know…”

 

Sitara smiled against Josh’s head and let him go.  She grinned at Marcus and ran for the door.  “I’m driving this time!”

 

Marcus’ gaze followed her out.  “Girl, you best get back here, _I’m_ driving!”  He turned back to Ray.  “Send us some addresses.  Keep us posted.”

 

Ray patted his shoulder.  “Be safe.  Don’t split up.  Keep your comms on.”

 

“Got it.  Keep an eye on these two, okay?”

 

Ray arched a brow at him.  “Who’s gonna keep an eye on me?”  He asked, chuckling at him.

 

Wrench knees were kicked up with the laptop propped on them, and he stared at the back of Ray’s head from behind the screen.  He made a mental promise that _he’d_ be keeping close watch.  He wasn’t a fan of how secretive Ray had been since his return; He spent an awful lot of time talking about Wrench when Wrench wasn’t in the room.  It was beginning to annoy him.

 

His frustration disappeared when Marcus met his gaze again.  Marcus smiled again and waved at him, and Wrench could have sworn his heart did a backflip.  He waved back, mirroring that smile, and watched as Marcus chased Sitara out the door.

 

It slipped closed, and the room fell into silence.  Josh had sat back at his computer and began typing.  Ray camped out in a recliner and pulled his own laptop into his lap, pulling up whatever research he was doing.

 

Wrench sat the laptop aside and stood up, making his way back to the other room where he knew he’d left his comm.  He tried to pretend that he couldn’t feel Ray’s eyes on him and didn’t release the breath he was holding until he was in the room.

 

“Don’t take too long, kid, we got shit to do,” Ray called after him.

 

Wrench tilted his face to the ceiling.  “I know, I gotta find my shit, chill!”  He yelled back.  Ray didn’t say anything else.

 

Wrench reached up and rubbed at his face as the frustration burned behind his eyes again.  He felt like they were on fire, and the damned ringing was humming from the base of his skull.  He tried to shake it off and went about the room collecting what he needed.  The comm was in his ear, his borrowed phone was programmed to their channel, and he found one of Marcus’ discarded hoodies and tugged it on over his head.  He was still cold, and his head was fuzzy, but he was going to get through this.

 

He walked out of the second room and sat back on the bed.  Once he was seated and comfortable, he let himself smile again.  “How’s Sitara’s driving?”

 

His comm filled with Marcus’ invigorating laugh.  “ _She drives like my nana._ ”

 

“ _You watch your mouth, Holloway._ ”  Sitara answered.

 

“ _‘Ey, you think I’m talking shit, my nana could take on Andretti._ ”  Marcus was quick to defend himself.

 

Sitara snickered.  “ _That’s what I thought._ ”

 

Wrench beamed and leaned his head back against the wall.  Everything was beginning to feel normal again.  If he could just get this hum out of his head, he’d be fine.  He went back on mute and let himself settle with that feeling.  He had work to do as well.

 

Sitara’s computer was easy to manoeuver, and he knew a few secrets for how to utilise some of her software.  He brought up the research they were looking into and found the names of whoever they were searching for, but he found himself unable to focus.  Whoever ‘Benjamin Langley’ and ‘Natasha Diaz’ were must have been important somehow, but his foggy head didn’t seem to want him to care.  He would read a sentence and immediately forget what it said; It was high school all over again, and this was the worst time for his lack of focus to flare up.

 

What did draw his attention though was the small, cleaned and dried computer chip that had been pulled from his head.  It had been rigged into an SD card adaptor and was resting on the bedside table in one of the cups the room had supplied.  As he stared, the ringing grew quiet.  He had to know what that chip was for.

 

It couldn’t have been whatever this ringing was.  If it had been, he wouldn’t be suffering with it now.  Whatever its purpose, it grew from whatever Dusan had done to him— Whatever Greenwood had done.  This chip had to be something else.  It couldn’t just have been to lure them to Dusan.  There had to be something else.

 

And why the fuck did Ray still have it?

 

Wrench peered over the screen of the laptop and watched Ray’s focus.  The old man was keeping to his work.  He seemed to be trying to avoid Wrench’s gaze.  It was just as well.  Wrench didn’t want to deal with his accusing stare.  It was also easier to pick the card up unnoticed and insert it into the laptop, minimising the other work to bring the program up.

 

His head grew quiet as a script filled his screen.  Despite his focus, he couldn’t decipher what the code meant.  He ran a small trace and found that they’d officially taken care of whatever signals the chip was receiving, but there was still something about this code that seemed familiar.

 

‘ _Does Ray know what it is?_ ’

 

His hands continued typing, trying to pick apart the code, but his eyes flitted to Ray.  Had he even _tried_ to see what else this chip could have been for?  Did he even need to?

 

What if Ray knew exactly what was on this chip?

 

A small noise from the computer indicated that he’d managed to break into… something.  When he turned back to the screen, he found a window that seemed to be asking for a password.  It was an empty window with a cursor blinking at the head of an inviting text box.  As much of a break as it was, it was a break through to another wall.  He didn’t know what the password or code was.

 

His head began to spin.  He squeezed his eyes shut and gripped his temples, trying to force the dizziness away.  There was no way Ray wouldn’t have been able to get this far.  Ray was hiding something.

_H̹̤̩̙̤̕ͅi̵̮̗̣̬͑̇̏̑̾̾ͅd̠͚̥͍̯͉̺̓͆̀ͦ̓͋i̫̩̥͙̜̖̭ͪͫͣͬ͛̊̚n̮̙͈͇̎̿́g̮̙͉͒̎̐̋͊͜ ̘̰̳̦̰̉̐̉̔́͟s̬̈́̿ͭͤ͠o̲͍̺m͍̏͛͛e̹̦̳̘ͤ̾ͭ̾ͦt̸͖̺͕̍̔h̐̃͢in̮̰͕͖̠̗̻̋ͩ̑̅̃g̻̲͛ͤ̏.͇̤͋̔̋̂ͫ́͗_

 

Wrench’s vision was blurred as he opened his eyes.  His hands found the keyboard of their own volition and began typing.

 

**V**

**E**

**R**

**T**

**I**

**G**

**O**

 

Wrench’s screen went dark.  He watched Josh’s screen follow, and from the lighting on his face, Ray’s had gone out as well.  “What the-?”  Ray stabbed at a key on his laptop a few times.  “Are we bein’ hacked?”

 

Josh seemed to be running through a series of reboot commands, none of which were working.  “I don’t know.  I don’t know, it just went black.  It’s not booting, it’s not-”

 

Ray stood up.  “Easy.  Give it a minute, we’ve got back up antiviruses and shit, let ‘em do their work.”  He turned to Wrench.  “Yours go too?”

 

Wrench blinked at him and nodded.  His head was disturbingly calm— No ringing, no headache— only a dull haze.  “It doesn’t seem like a hack though, more like… more like we’re being blocked.”

 

Ray’s brows knit with a deep concern.  He pulled out his phone.  “ _Shit_ …  No signal.”  He tried to tap into their channel, but he couldn’t.  “We’ve been cut off.”

 

Something heavy and terrifying settled itself in Wrench’s chest.

 

Josh shot up from his chair before he could respond and made for the door.  Ray, faster than probably either of them were expecting, darted in his way.  “Whoa, hey kid, where the hell you goin’?”

 

“To get signal,” Josh answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  “If we’ve been cut off, Marcus and Sitara could be walking into a trap.  We have to warn them.”

 

“Then I’ll do it.”  Ray reached out and caught Josh’s shaking shoulders.  “You two need to stay safe.  I’ll go out and get ‘em back here, and then we’re gonna go find somewhere else to set up, all right?  Everything’s gonna be fine.”

 

Josh went stiff, but he nodded.

 

The weight in Wrench’s chest grew heavier.  Ray was leaving.  Was he leaving them to a trap?  Did he know this was going to happen?  Wrench wanted to argue, to call Ray out for the liar he clearly had to be, but the weight was stealing his breath and keeping him quiet.  He was terrified.

 

But none of it was showing on his face.  Something was keeping it in.

 

Ray moved to the front door and turned back to Wrench.  “Stay here.  I mean it.  Lock up behind me.  Josh knows the knock.”  Ray left the room.

 

Wrench felt a visceral need to follow him.  Seconds after, he was on his feet and beelining for the door.  His hand found the knob and turned.

 

“Wrench!”  Josh called after him, freezing him in place.  Wrench turned to face him, and Josh was standing a few feet away, trembling in place and biting his lip.  “…P-… Please don’t leave.  I don’t want to be alone.  It’s not safe to go.  We can’t lose you again.”

 

Wrench stared for a while, and his thoughts grew fuzzy.  Josh was right of course.  He shouldn’t leave the room, especially if it meant abandoning Josh by himself in an unfamiliar place without anyone he knew and the potential for enemies to come in and hurt him the way they hurt Wrench.  Wrench sighed and let go of the knob, locking as many of the locks as he could.  “…Sorry Josh.”  He said, walking away from the door and standing at a window.  He shoved the curtains out of the way and stared out onto the street.

 

Josh fidgeted as he stood in the centre of the room.  “I’m sorry.”

 

Wrench gripped the window sill.  “Why are you sorry?”

 

“I know you want to go help, but I’m making you stay with me…”  Josh rubbed his arms, keeping his gaze on the floor.  “This is bad… This is so bad.”  He began to pace.

 

Wrench took a deep breath and tugged open the window.  “Come here, man.”  Wrench moved toward him and grabbed his shoulders.  “You need air.”  He moved Josh to sit on the bed nearest to the window.

 

“I don’t need air,” Josh argued, letting himself be moved anyway.  “I just need this to be over.”

 

Wrench’s head felt heavy.  He nodded as the only response he could manage and backed away, taking Josh’s place pacing in the centre of the room.  His gait was drunk, matching how bleary his vision had gotten, and he was switching between holding his head and rubbing his arms.  How cold was it in here?  He moved to the air control and turned the temperature up.

 

“Wrench?  Are you okay?”  Josh’s voice was nervous.  Wrench hated it.

 

“I’m just cold…  Probably from all the blood I lost,” He answered, moving away and gripping his head again.  “…Fuck.”  He crouched down and rest his elbows on his knees.  His head felt like it should have been in pain with how much it was pounding, but instead it felt like a balloon.  There was static in his ears that muffled the sounds of the hotel.  The hum of the ceiling fan got lost in the buzz, but he could hear something trying to break through to him.

 

He lifted his head and watched Josh’s mouth form his name.  He forced himself to focus.

 

“-ench, are you sure you’re okay?”  Josh was leaning towards him.  He looked… afraid?  Was it fear for Wrench?  Or fear for himself?

 

Wrench ducked his head again.  “I’m fine, Josh.”  The words came out harsher than he’d meant them to, and Josh’s flinch told him as much.  He forced himself to stand despite the buzzing in his head, and the tunnel vision in his eyes.  “…It’s just how Ray is treating all this.  Why is it okay for him to leave by himself?  If we’re in danger unless we have the safety of numbers, where does that old _fuck_ think he’s going?”  He gestured angrily to the door.  His tunnel vision was getting worse.

 

Josh’s concern creased his forehead.  “…He’s going out to make sure Sitara and Marcus are all right.”  Josh stood up from the bed and began wringing his hands.  “Ray is not our enemy, he’s our friend.  I know you’ve never seen eye to eye with him, but he’s helping.”

 

“Is he!?”  Wrench turned his glare to Josh.  “He hasn’t trusted me since I got back!”

 

Josh bit his lip, and his eyes filled with determination.  “I think… I think you’re wrong.”  Josh’s eyes burned a hole in the floor.  “I think _you_ haven’t trusted _him_.”

 

Wrench’s shoulders dropped.  “…You even _said_ -”

 

“I know what I said!  I know I was angry that Ray seemed like he didn’t trust you, but I was wrong!” Josh’s head lifted, and he met Wrench’s eyes in defiance.  “You’re just paranoid right now because of how long you were in that place.  I will never blame you for that.  But you need to trust us.  You need to trust your _f̧͎̩̥͙̹ͮr̼͇ͨͪ̆̈́̎͗̅i̞̮͈̻͖̠͎ͩ̉́̔̚e͖͇͍̖̺n̖͙̻̜̬̽d̹͆ͯŝ̨͓̝͙̺͕͊̆͂_.”

 

Static and ringing came to a crescendo in his ears.  If Josh was saying anything else, he couldn’t hear it.  He took a short step towards his nervous friend, and he watched Josh back away from him, all the way into the wall.  His face twisted in one of fear again, and it was clear now that the fear on his face before was for Wrench.  It was for himself now.  Why was he so afraid?  Something about the look in Josh’s eyes broke Wrench’s heart.

 

All at once, the buzzing stopped.  His mind seemed to yank itself out of its fog.  His hand was outstretched toward his friend.

 

The gun he hadn’t remembered picking up was in his hand and smoking.  He dropped it like it was on fire and turned his horrified gaze back to Josh.

 

Josh stared at him with soft confusion and a trembling lip.  “W-… Wrench…?  Are you mad at me…?”  On his chest, a spot of red grew like spilled paint.  He slid down the wall and left a trail of that same red stain.

 

Wrench’s chest caved in.  “No.  No, no, _no!_ ”  He sprinted across the room and skidded next to where Josh had fallen.  He curled his arms around Josh and pulled him away from the wall.  “No, no, _god_ no tell me I didn’t just fucking do this, Josh, please, fucking-”

 

“It-… It’s okay…”  Josh managed.  The confusion in his eyes gave way to understanding.  “Everything will be… fine…”

 

A sob ripped free from Wrench’s throat and he tried to cover the bullet wound with his hand, letting the other hold the back of Josh’s head.  “No, _no,_ it’s not, don’t s-say shit like that man, we gotta g-get you to a hospital or s-something-”

 

Josh gave him a resolved smile, lifting a hand to grab a handful of his shirt.  “Y-…You didn’t do this…”

 

“What are you fucking talking about!?  I shot you, I fucking-…”  The words froze in his throat as Josh’s free hand crawled to the side of his face.  Those usually downcast eyes were right on his own.

 

Josh’s smile trembled.  “They-… They did this to you…  It wasn’t y-you.  You didn’t-…”  He trailed off.  His grip on Wrench’s shirt loosened.  His eyes grew dull.  The hand on Wrench’s face dropped.

 

Wrench was left in silence.  He shook Josh gently.  “J-… Josh?”  There was no response.  Another sob escaped, and Wrench shook harder.  “P-Please wake up, please, I d-don’t know what’s wrong with me, I don’t know what to d-do, I-…  God, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Josh please, _please_ wake up, I need you…!  I n-need you, you c-can’t-…”  His voice was leaving him.  He couldn’t breathe.  He pulled Josh’s motionless form against him as tight as he could, hoping, _praying_ , that he could feel him breathing, or feel his heartbeat against him.  There was nothing.  There was only stillness and the silence of the room and Wrench’s head.  Wrench’s voice returned long enough to scream.

 

Josh was gone.

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so hard to write dear god please don't leave


	15. White Noise

When signal returned to the room, Josh’s phone buzzed first.  Darkened computers lit up as they rebooted from whatever stasis they were in.

 

Wrench was on autopilot.  He’d shrieked his lungs dry over Josh’s body, so much that he couldn’t hear anymore, and he was wondering how no one had called any authorities yet.  His feet dragged him across the hotel room.  He found Josh’s phone sitting next to a laptop that sat expectantly awaiting a password that only one man ever knew and would never type again.  The borrowed phone in his own pocket begged to be reconnected to their radio feed.

 

He paced the room and stubbed his toe on the gun that one now another bullet down.  He blindly lifted it and stared it down like it was the sentient being that had done.

 

But it hadn’t been the gun.  Wrench had pulled the trigger.

 

Wrench’s snarl turned on himself as he opened the magazine to check how many bullets were left.  Two down.  He slammed the magazine back into place and cocked the gun, resting the barrel against his temple.  How could he do this?  How could he hurt Josh of all people?  He’d been the sweetest, most innocent member of Dedsec, and Wrench put a bullet in his damn heart.  The pain of seeing Josh’s motionless body made Wrench double over.  He sobbed again, gun trembling against his head.

 

Sitara was going to break.  Marcus would fall apart.  God, Ray would have another reason to not trust Wrench, and he’d be right.  Again.

 

It dawned on him then that they did have a mole.  But it was never Ray; It was Wrench.  He tried to squeeze the trigger—

 

But how a̯̤̗̗̥̲ͬw̫̯̘̘̗͐̚̚̚f̦͖̤͓̽͂̆̊̄u̶̥̦̦͊̆͌̓ĺ͈̫͇̙̳̘ͩ would it be for Marcus if he came back to _both_ of them dead?

 

Wrench’s hand stilled by itself.  It tucked the gun away at his side, and he crawled instead over to Josh, curling around his fallen friend so his body wouldn’t get cold, for all the good it would do.  Wrench had been cold since his return; he wasn’t much help.

 

He had to tell Marcus what happened.  He didn’t know what Ray would do if he found out first, and he couldn’t bear to think of what Sitara would say, or how she would look at him.  He would tell Marcus when they were safe again.

 

But they had been safe here.  They had been safe until they brought Wrench back.  They would never be safe with him there.  He had to leave, but his feet weren’t letting him.  He stayed wrapped around Josh like he could squeeze life back into him.

 

The door busted open.

 

Wrench had been expecting cops.  He’d even been expecting hotel staff.  Instead, Ray skidded into view around the bed.  He must have returned, and by the sounds of it, so had the others.

 

Ray looked lost.  “Tell me he’s not-…”  He couldn’t finish the thought.

 

Wrench didn’t have the voice to answer.  Instead, he curled further around Josh and squeezed his eyes shut.

 

Sitara’s steps were already rushed as they entered, and they grew frantic as she threw herself at the scene.  “Josh!?  _Josh!?_ ”  She nearly ripped him away from Wrench, but Wrench let her.  He crawled away until he was leaning against the wall.  Sitara screamed.  It was a blood curdling roar of agony as she lifted Josh’s head from the floor and pressed it into her sweater.  Ray was attempting to calm her down, but no amount of his prodding could get her to let go.  She leaned Josh down on the floor again and rested her head in the bend of his shoulder, sliding a hand down his arm to lace with his cold fingers.  She squeezed it and continued to cry herself numb.

 

Wrench could only watch as the pain he’d caused on friend radiated out and took over them all.  He turned his exhausted gaze down to his shirt, now drenched red at his chest from Josh’s blood.  His hands were stained that same hue, and they were trembling.  He did this.

 

_He did this._

 

He watched dark hands slowly curl into his view as Marcus took those bloodied hands in his.  Wrench made the mistake of looking up.  Marcus looked empty.  He’d remembered him looking this way before, when they were mourning the loss of Horatio over his desk as he lamented how he should have been able to do more.  Something in Wrench permanently snapped in half.

 

He launched forward and threw his arms around Marcus’ neck, surprising himself as he still had more tears to cry.

 

~

 

Ray hadn’t let them mourn for long.  It hadn’t been from any malevolent standpoint at all; someone had come in and taken one of them out at what they thought was a safe location.  Clearly whoever that was had gotten away and could return at any moment.  They had to be gone by that time.

 

Convincing Sitara— or Wrench for that matter— to leave Josh behind had been harder.  Unfortunately, even Marcus agreed that there wasn’t anything they could do for him, and taking him with them would slow them down.

 

Sitara relented, but with hate in her eyes.  Wrench wasn’t sure who it was meant for, but the odds were that it was meant for whoever had killed Josh.  That hate was meant for _him_.

 

They washed Wrench up and changed him into one of Marcus’ shirts, which on any other day would have made him feel wonderful and loved.  Now he felt like a monster.  He was only in this shirt to rid himself of the one covered in the blood of a friend— To rid himself of the proof of what he’d done.  Wrench felt sick.  His head wanted to explode.

 

Before they left, they put Josh on the bed.  They made sure his eyes were closed, and Sitara pressed a kiss to his head, resting their foreheads together for a few more seconds.  Nobody rushed her.  Nobody would dare.  She never brought their lips together, but they all knew it wasn’t because Sitara didn’t want to.  Josh hadn’t been ready for that yet, and Sitara wasn’t about to breach that trust, even when she knew that Josh could never be ready now.

 

They left in time to avoid the police that had finally been called.

 

Ray drove, stone faced. Marcus sat with Wrench in the back, running his fingers through Wrench’s hair over and over as Wrench laid in his lap, staring at the back of the seat.  Sitara was in the front passenger seat were her feet on the dash and her head in her hands.  Her elbows rested on her knees, and her chest heaved with sobs.  They were growing quiet and rough.  She was losing her voice, too.

 

Without warning, Sitara’s fist launch to her side and smacked into the door’s window so hard, the glass cracked.  “What the fuck happened!?”  He voice was sandpaper and desperation.

 

Wrench’s body tensed.

 

Ray didn’t let him fumble for an answer.  “I’ll tell ya what happened.  It was a damn trap, and we fell for it.”  He ducked his head.  “…I fell for it.”

 

Wrench’s voice tried to bubble forward.  He couldn’t let Ray take the blame.  He couldn’t leave Sitara in the dark.  She deserved to know.  Still, as he opened his mouth, the ringing settled in his skull.  “S-Somebody got in through th-…the window…”  He managed, the lie sticking like molasses to his tongue.  “I don’t know h-how, I was in the other room for a f-fucking… _second_ …”

 

Why couldn’t he force out the truth?  Why wouldn’t his mouth let him tell them they were in danger with every second they were with him?

 

Ray reached back and put a hand on Wrench’s arm.  “I shouldn’a made you stay.  I shoulda cleared us outta there the minute we lost signal, I shoulda _known_ we were the target.  This is on _me_.”

 

Marcus breathed in so deep, Wrench felt his body shift.  “Everybody stop.  Right now.  This is not on anybody but those fucks at the CIA.  We need to not let this slow us down.”

 

“What the fuck are we supposed to do without him, Marcus!?”  Sitara asked, spinning in her seat to face him.  “None of us can work like he could!  None of us can accomplish what he could, and we are _fucked_ if the CIA tries to hack us again!  They only reason we’re not dead or in jail right the fuck now is because of how hard he fought to block their trace!  If they even catch a _wiff_ of us, we’re dead!  You may as well drive us into the bay, Ray!”

 

Wrench closed his eyes and curled up further in Marcus’ lap.  That was starting to sound like a good plan to him.  Marcus’ grip on his was firm and comforting.  “None of us can do what he did _alone!_   God, we can’t do this to ourselves!  We’re better than them!  We can come the fuck together and beat this, and we’ll make them pay for what they did to Josh!”

 

Sitara drew in a sharp, shattered breath.  “Well then you’d better have a fucking plan, because I don’t know what to do anymore.”

 

Marcus watched her with a trembling gaze.  He reached out and put a hand over hers as it gripped the back of her chair hard enough to tear into the pleather.  “Dedsec is not just the four of us.  We got feelers out _everywhere._   If we’re taking down Greenwood and every fuck under him, we gotta light ‘em up.”

 

Ray glanced at him from the rear-view mirror.  “You wanna send out an all-call.”

 

“You’re damn right I do,” Marcus continued.  “They wanna bring the world down around us, fine.  They get to know that we can do the same fucking thing to them.  They tortured Wrench, they murdered Josh—”

 

Wrench flinched—

 

“—And they won’t listen to a damn word we fucking say.”  Marcus glared at no one.  “So we _make_ them listen.  We take out whoever’s responsible for Josh, we figure out who the fuck attacked that hospital, we plaster their faces on every airwave we can hack, and we show the CIA how they _should_ be doing their goddamn jobs.”

 

Sitara bit her lip and cast her gaze down.  “All-call means going to hackerspaces.  That’s gonna put a lot more of us in danger.”

 

Marcus gave a bitter shrug.  “We already in danger.  If we keep hiding and going this slow, they’ll catch us all anyway.  We gotta risk it.  And I know that there are others out there who’ll do this for us.  For Josh.”

 

Sitara stared at him.  Her lips pursed in her distress, but she nodded.  “For Josh.”

 

“For Josh,” Ray repeated without hesitation.  He reached back and planted his hand over Marcus and Sitara’s.

 

Wrench’s chest was a vice on his heart.  He slowly lifted himself from Marcus’ lap and held his head.  He needed to tell them.  They had to know.  But his head was screaming every time he tried to open his mouth to confess.  One shaky hand covered Ray’s as he bit back a dry heave, trying to fill his mouth with words instead of vomit.

 

“F-…For Josh.”

 

~

 

The decision was made to split up one last time.  Ray took Sitara to go in one direction to a hackerspace further into the city, and Marcus and Wrench were going to head back to their home base.  It was scary to split up again so soon after the last split got one of them killed, but if they were being followed, someone had a better chance of making it home if they had multiple targets instead of one.  Everyone was willing to sacrifice themselves for this goal— For what Josh had started.  They would solve this if they had to follow him.

 

Wrench had gone numb.  They all shared a tight group hug before parting ways, and it was the last warmth he felt before they let go.  As soon as they did, the cold settled back into his bones, and the empty hum filled his head.  He watched Sitara and Ray get into another car and disappear down the street.

 

Wrench was alone with Marcus.  If it were the perfect day, he’d take him to a rooftop and make out with him until they couldn’t breathe.  Now, the fear had his heart beating so fast, he only felt a solid hum, matching the dull ache of his head.

 

If his head could turn him against Josh, he didn’t trust it to keep Marcus safe.  No one was safe.  Wrench felt the weight of the gun he’d been allowed to keep on his hip, and it burned an imprint on his skin.  He’d never be able to get that feeling to go away.  His hand kept itching to pull it into his grip again, bit he forced it to stay at his side.  He would feel it twitch, and he would check to make sure it was empty.

 

One glance was timed just right to watch Marcus’ hand slip into his view again, taking the trembling one and using it to tug him into a tight, terrified hug.  Marcus’ face pressed into his neck, and the breath he took was broken and audible.  Wrench’s fingers fisted handfuls of Marcus’ shirt to force them to behave and pull Marcus closer.

 

He forgot how sensitive Marcus could be.  He was always such a pillar of strength for them that it was easy to forget how long it took Marcus to get over Horatio.  Wrench had been the one who noticed how often he went off to be alone when he didn’t have a mission.  He noticed that Marcus was taking more naps so he could be unconscious and not have to think about what had happened and what they lost.

 

Josh was Horatio all over again.  Josh was Horatio, but _worse_.  Wrench had brought this pain on him.  Marcus was going to feel this one for months.

 

And it would only get worse when he found out who was responsible.  Wrench leaned into his hold further.

 

Marcus slowly pulled away and took Wrench’s face in his hands.  “…Are you okay…?”

 

Wrench’s eyes squeezed shut.  “No.”  He wanted to tell him something was wrong with him.  He wanted to tell him what he’d done, but the words wouldn’t come.

 

Marcus’ thumbs stroked his cheeks.  “…It’s not your fault, Wrench.”

 

Wrench opened his mouth to argue, but a strangled noise escaped instead.  It sounded frustrated and tired.

 

“It’s _not_.”  Marcus pulled their foreheads together and let his fingers crawl to the back of Wrench’s neck.  “I know you think you could have done something, but you’re wrong…  Okay?  This was bound to happen, and it’s not your fault that it did.  Someone was going to-” He finally faltered.  “…S-Someone was gonna get hurt… We just didn’t know who, or when.”

 

Wrench drew a sharp breath.  “P-Please don’t…”  His hands shook at Marcus’ side.  “Not Josh.  It shouldn’t have been Josh.”

 

Marcus trailed his hands down to Wrench’s shaking ones and pulled them away.  “It shouldn’t have been anybody…”  He leaned back and squeezed those hands.  “And it won’t be anybody else.  Not on our damn watch.”

 

Wrench peeled his eyes away from the ground and forced them to look up into Marcus’.  He begged them to tell Marcus that something was wrong, as his mouth wouldn’t cooperate, but Marcus seemed to take his grief at its face value, cupping his cheek again.

 

“Come on.”  He leaned against him and gave him a kiss for comfort.  “We’ve gotta get to H͚̼͎̤̮̬̞͜Q̅͗ͣ̋̍̚.  Are you all right to drive?”

 

Wrench blinked dumbly at him, the kiss throwing him off.  The thought of Marcus trusting him with their safety in a moving vehicle made him feel ill, and he had horrible images of twisted metal and blood in his head, but none of it showed on his face.  “Uh.  Yeah, I can-… I can drive.”

 

Marcus’ smile was bittersweet.  “Let’s find us a ride.”

 

They found a nondescript, black four door in a nearby parking lot, and they were on the road in seconds.  Wrench’s hands were steeled on the wheel as he drove them through the streets.  Marcus was busy on his phone messaging as many allies as he could.

 

Wrench drove them out of Oakland and made his way to the Bay Bridge.  He felt his hands twitching to steer them into the guardrail, but he held fast and tried to distract himself.  “Which hackerspace are Sitara and Ray going to?”

 

“I don’t know.  They’ll let us know when they get there, but they’re just travelling around right now until they know they’re not being followed.”  Marcus continued sending and receiving correspondence from other Dedsec members and gave his phone a soft smile.  So many people were ready to rally at the loss of Josh.

 

Wrench felt sick.  “Which one are we headed for?”

 

Marcus lifted his eyes long enough to meet his.  “H̸̶͇̱̞̩̮͕̦͎̎͂ͮͯͭ̑̆ͨ̔o̸̩͈͙̹̙͛̊ͫ͜m̯̹̣͍̙̜̻̼͚͋̓ͭͬ̌̊͜e̶̤̲̰̭̲̞ͨ̿͋ͭ͊̕.”

 

Wrench’s chest bottomed out, and his hands stopped fighting to drive them into the bay.  Whatever was wrong with him wanted them to go home like Marcus asked.

 

‘ _D͕̤ͬ̾̓̓͌o̹ͣņ̬͊͒͑̓̿̾̚ͅ’̶̰̟͇̞͚͎̂ͭͨͨ̋ͣt͇̬̫̺̓̊ͮ͟ ͖͓̠ͪ̔̆̀g̗̠̦ͪo̡̟̟̠̘͐ͤ̈̇̌̾ ̯̣̼̥̐͟h͔o̻͇̯͙͙͇̔ͯ̿̏m̞̩͓̯͈̗͜e̦̥̮̙̪̖̓̀ͮ̐͟._ ’

 

Wrench’s vision blurred, but his focus remained on the road.  An alarming flare of comfort filled him.  He was going home, and his body was letting him.  It was letting him return to a familiar and safe area, and things could finally go back to normal.

 

But he knew better.  Things would never be the same; Josh was dead.  Wrench had killed him.  That same part of him that pulled the trigger was more than happy to drive them straight to their home base.  Wrench didn’t trust himself, but he couldn’t stop.

 

Marcus’ phone continued to go off.  “We’re racking up a lot of help, man…”  He said it as a mean to encourage them both, Wrench could tell.  He was using _that_ voice— the one that made everything believe that everything was going to be okay.  “Ray’s getting people on his end, too.”  He continued reading the message that he’d received.  “And he’s getting closer to figuring out who got Josh.”

 

Wrench’s heart beat so hard, it imprinted itself on his ribcage.  “How?”

 

“He set his computer up with surveillance.  He wanted to make sure he had a way to watch the room when he was out and keep an eye on us.”  Marcus tucked his phone away.  “Whoever blocked your signal only encrypted it.  He’s working on getting that feed back.  We’re gonna get him, Wrench.  We’re so close.”  He reached over and laid his hand on Wrench’s arm.

 

The touch set Wrench’s arm on fire, but it also inflamed something in his head.  Tears welled in his eyes, and he gritted his teeth.  With resolve, he gunned it.

 

Marcus planted back in his seat.  “Whoa!  Easy, Wrench, we’re trying not to draw attention here!”

 

Wrench’s head felt like it wanted to crack open like an egg.  “I have to talk to you,” He managed, voice broken and hollow.

 

“We can talk at home!  Wrench, you gotta slow the fuck down!”  Marcus demanded.

 

‘ _D̙̙̻͖͙̞ͪ͂ͣ͆ͥͣ͗o͙̦̘n̞̍’̻̺̱̝͎̺̯ͧ̎͋͒ͤ̓̋t̜̝͙͖̂ͫ̇ͩ͞ ̵͔̯͕̰͎͇͋̐ͥ̔g̪͎͍̗̭͙͋̕ȯ̙̱͙̜͎ͦ͌̌̅̏̐ ̭̱͈̰̦̱͍̒ͪ̉̓ͭͩh̢̬̜̲̫̠̖̀o̜͚̺̹̠̟m̹͍̆ͦ̏̅̓̔ẹ̮̝̖̄̊́ͣ͗̐ͥ._ ’

 

“No I c-ca-… I can’t go home, we can’t, we c-…can’t.”  Wrench squeezed the wheel tightly and felt his hands ready to drive them toward the middle of the city—

 

Straight towards home.

 

‘ _Ḋ̶̷̵̼̼̮̣͚̪̺͉̩̱͓͛̐̒ͪ̑͗ͥ͒͒̒ͩ̏̃͂̚͞Ŏ̵̗̖͇̖̱̳͗̅̈̏̇͛́͌̓͛ͪͮ͑̀̚̚͘͜͝N̶̩̪̜̞̭̩̥̹̲͚̝̫͔̤͕̫̱̓ͫ͌ͤ͊͋ͧ͌̑ͫ͌̉͌ͩͅ'̛̳̩̲̦̠̓ͧ́̊͂̎͋̾͑ͮT̴̸̶̢̘͙̞̬̞̖̹̜͈̖̓ͬͬ̋̇͗̽̔ͣ̉ ̢̡͎̬̜͙̗̮̹ͩ̈́̿ͬ͂G̐͛͐̒̀͡҉̨̼̳͉͍̝̫̝̗̬̖̜̠̦̦͙̰̙͍̫O͗ͨ͗̎̓ͭ̓͗͐ͧ̽͛ͯ̔͋́ͤ҉͏҉̠̳̮̜̜̘͍͖̤͔̳͙̺̜ͅ ̸̽̇ͯ̌ͬ͞͏̴̭̼̜̲̠͕̞̲͇̞̱̦͈͓̳̹͎̪̘͘H̶̨̝̯͎̫̤̼͖̖̫ͫ̍̈̋̏͋̓ͫ̐ͥͧ̆̿ͤͥ̇̆̊͝͠Ő͖̻̜̯͇̗̘͚̦͕̜̤̥̥̪͉͖̩̂ͣ͑́̿M̢̳͎̪̝̯̜͔̼̤̞̩̩͙̟̺͗̅̅̋̈́͊̍͢͝Ę̙̩̱̗̺̺̓ͬ̂̌̃ͪ̈ͫ͢_.’

 

Wrench gave a grunt of effort and yanked the wheel to the right.

 

Marcus look terrified.  He kept looking over his shoulder behind them as if he was checking if they were being followed.  “Wrench, what the fuck is it?  Are we bein’ tailed?  Do you know something?”

 

Marcus’ phone lit with a Dedsec themed background and ‘Black Betty’ playing from its speakers; Ray’s ringtone.  Wrench flinched and veered again, through a red light as he barely missed some pedestrians.  Marcus cried out in alarm, but he didn’t touch his phone.  It slid to the floor.  The song continued.  Ray knew.  Wrench had to tell him first.

 

Marcus gripped the door and the dash like his life depended on it, but he still kept his concerned gaze on Wrench.  “Babe, you gotta talk to me.  What’s going on with you?  What’s wrong?”

 

Wrench pursed his lips.  “Not now…”  His heart was twisting in his chest.  “Not yet, it’s n-…not safe.”  He lifted a hand and gripped the side of his head, fingers pulling at his hair.  His head felt like someone was taking a buzz saw to the inside of his skull.

 

The ringtone stopped.  Then it began again.  Marcus still ignored it.  Wrench’s terror was more important than whatever Ray had to say.  Wrench had never been more grateful for Marcus’ trust, but had also cursed it; It was misplaced now.

 

Wrench took a corner sharp, nearly drifting into the turn, as he sped into the shade of a parking garage.  The tires squealed as he made his way to the highest level.  The number of cars grew more and more scarce as they climbed, and there were only two other vehicles on the top level with them.  They were abandoned.  Wrench hit the brakes.  He was breathing heaving as he parked the car, throwing open the door and trying to fight to breathe.

 

Marcus tumbled out of the car after him after picking up his phone.  The ringtone had stopped again.  “Dammit Wrench!  Calm the fuck down and talk to me!”

 

“I have to tell you…  I h-have to tell you.”  Wrench gripped his head with both hands.  The ringing had grown worse.  Every second he didn’t do what his head was screaming at him to do, the pain grew worse.  His vision was darkening.  He was losing his already slim control.

 

“Tell me what?”  Marcus begged.  His phone went off again, and this time he gave a frustrated grunt and snatched the phone back out of his pocket.  “God dammit Ray, what!?”

 

When he looked back up at Wrench, the shaky man had long since steadied himself and had his gun drawn.  The barrel stared Marcus down.  Wrench’s own, broken and wet stare did the same.  Marcus was first shocked.  Then, it wilted into something sad and resolved.

 

Ray was not quiet on the phone.  “ _It’s Wrench!  Fuckin’ hell, Marcus, they got to him!_ ”

 

Marcus’ pursed his lips and dropped his gaze to the concrete beneath him.  “Yeah… I know.”

 

“ _Marc-!_ ”

 

Marcus hung up.  He held his phone out to the side and dropped it to the ground.  He gaze lifted and found Wrench’s again.

 

Although his headache had finally waned, the pain ripping through Wrench’s heart only got worse.  “D-Don’t,” He managed.  “Don’t look at me like that.”

 

Marcus held his hands up in surrender.  “And how’m I looking at you right now?”

 

Wrench’s lip twitched.  “Shame, probably.  D-Disgust…  I dunno.”

 

Marcus shook his head.  “It ain’t none of those things.  Wrench, you don’t have to do this.”

 

Wrench sobbed, wanted to break down, but his legs were steeled to the ground, and his arm remained steady.  “I c-can’t stop it, M.  It’s been like this since I left that fucking compound, my head is- is a fucking mess, and it hurts, and all I know is that if I pull the fucking trigger, it’ll stop… _ringing_.  If I just let it happen, it’ll stop.” He tilted his head as agony crossed his eyes.  “But if I do… y-you’ll be dead, and I don’t-… I _can’t-_ …”

 

“You can just put it down, babe.  I know it doesn’t feel like you can, but we can help you.  You put that gun down, we get you home, and we get those mother fuckers out of your head.”  Marcus hands remained outstretched toward Wrench, though he wasn’t moving any closer.

 

Wrench was growing frustrated.  “I can’t _go_ home, Marcus!  That isn’t h-home anymore!  Josh is gone!  _I_ did that!”

 

“No you didn’t.”

 

“Yes, I fucking did!”  Wrench’s hand trembled, but the gun was still dangerously locked on Marcus.  His back arched as he tried to stave off his need to shoot.  “H-He… He asked me if I was mad at him…  Mad at _him_ …!  I fucking-... _shot_ him, and he’s afraid he’d done something to upset me, and h-he didn’t deserve that, he-…”  He swallowed a broken wail that wanted to pry itself from his throat.  “I shot him, and he told me everything would be okay.  But it won’t.  Nothing ever will.”

 

Marcus’ pain strengthened in his face as Wrench spoke.  Still he looked like he was set in his beliefs.  “It will be okay.  He wasn’t lying to you.”  Marcus’ hands dropped to his sides.  “This isn’t you.  You were brainwashed.  But I know that the man I fucking love is still in there.  If he wasn’t, you’d have already shot me.”

 

Wrench’s face twisted in pain.  “I don’t know anymore, I don’t know, I don’t-…”  He bit his lip.  “I don’t know anything anymore.  I don’t know what to do, and I don’t know what part of me I can trust…”

 

“You may not know, but I do.  I know what you’re capable of, and you can beat these fuckers.”  Marcus dared take a step toward him, but only one.  There was a desperation in his eyes.

 

Wrench couldn’t lower the gun.  Marcus’ proximity made his grip tighten.  He took a deep breath and forced himself one more ounce of control.  “I thought of you in there, you know,” He managed, swallowing his fear.  “Every time I thought I couldn’t take anymore, I thought of you, and I… I thought that was enough.”  His bottom lip trembled, and his vision was blurry now because of tears.  “But they got to me anyway.”

 

“You can fight it.”  Marcus’ concern grew deeper and more obvious; he seemed to be catching on to where this was going.  “You can fight it, and we’ll take care of you.”

 

Wrench’s chest heaved, but he barely made a sound.  “…C-Can you…  Can you say it again…?  Can you tell me you love me…?”  He sucked in a breath.  “Please…”

 

“I love you.”  Marcus didn’t even hesitate.  His breathing hitched as he inhaled.  “And that’s why I need you to breathe and try to put the gun down so I can bring you home, and we can _fix_ you…”

 

Wrench’s arm was shaking.  There was static in his ears.  “F-Fuck I love you…  So goddamn much it fucking hurts, and when I look at you, I don’t wanna breathe.  It’s like I don’t need to, and that means _everything_ to a piece of shit like me.”  The gun was heavy in his palm.  “…S-Say it again…”

 

There were tears in Marcus’ eyes now, and they were escaping down his cheeks.  “I _love you_.”  His hands were fists at his sides.  “P-Please, Wrench…”

 

Wrench took a deep trembling breath and gave Marcus a sad smile.  His arm jerked, but it lowered the gun.  “I love you too…  That’s why I have to do this.”

 

His hand lifted the gun again, but this time, he pressed it to his own temple.

 

Time seemed to slow down.  Behind Marcus, Ray and Sitara had busted through the stairwell door, their running growing urgent as they took in the scene.  Marcus’ face became a disturbingly familiar visage of distraught as he shouted something Wrench couldn’t hear and let his feet dig into the ground to carry him forward.

 

Wrench closed his eyes.  All that mattered was that Marcus would be safe.  He pulled the trigger.  The static, the muffled screaming, the fear—

 

Everything stopped.

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear god please don't go. ; ;


	16. Recall

Greenwood stood over the blank monitor with his arms crossed and a nerve-wrackingly stoic expression on his face.  “What happened?”

 

Suzanne was seated to one side of the monitor, gripping the edge of her chair and ducking her gaze away from Greenwood’s disappointment.  Dusan was on the other, leaning on his elbows on the desk and pressing his mouth into his clasped fists.  Before them all, Wrench was lying prone and unconscious on a gurney, sensors attached to his head and a light mask over his eyes.

 

Suzanne bit her lip.  “He killed himself again,” She finally answered, still not looking up.

 

Greenwood drew in a slow, calculated breath.  He turned away from the two toward the wall, and with a mighty roar, he hauled off and punched the glass.  It spiderwebbed under his fist, and Suzanne and Dusan flinched.  Greenwood let the room fall into silence.  Then he turned back to them.  “How long does it take… to pull a _fucking roadmap_  out of the head of some punk-ass hacker?  Hm?”  He threw his hands on their shoulders and squeezed too hard, making them both wince under the hold.  “All I want is an address. One single  _address_.”

 

Dusan was the one who spoke again.  “H-He’s fighting this harder than we thought.”  He managed.

 

Suzanne glared at the desk in her pain.  “I can’t just dig around his head, it doesn’t work like that…!  He has to take us there himself.”

 

Greenwood sighed and let go of them.  “Fine.  You’re lucky your research is so valuable, Miss Katchadourian.  Get him set up, and send him through again.  Stream line.  I want him in again as soon as possible.”  He turned to the door.

 

“It’s going to take a few hours to reset him,” Suzanne said.

 

Greenwood paused at the door and glanced over his shoulder at her.  “I want him back inside in one.”

 

Suzanne stood in defiance.  “If I don’t properly let his mind reset, he’s going to get flashes of the last trip.  The more flashes he gets, the more likely he’ll know it isn’t real, and he won’t take us to their hideout.  I know you want this done, but patience is a virtue, and if I have to keep torturing this poor boy, you’re going to have to let me do it properly.”  She drew in a nervous breath as Greenwood’s eyebrows rose in amusement.  “You won’t get what you want unless we do it my way.”

 

Greenwood pressed his lips together and looked impressed.  He walked back towards her and caught her chin in his hand, keeping her gaze on him. “ _Fine._   But your way had better start showing some results.”  He glanced down at Dusan, who had remained seated and pensive.  “I have a meeting to attend.  I’ll be back in the morning.  If we don’t have any headway by then, I’m going to have to implement some…  _incentive_.”  He beamed at them both.  “Have a good night.”

 

He left the room, and the door clicked shut behind him.  Suzanne trembled and sat back down in her seat.  She drew in a terrified breath and rested her head on the desk.

 

“…Your getting bold,” Warned Dusan, who’d barely moved.

 

Suzanne’s eyes narrowed, and she lifted her head.  “Please, you’ve barely stood up to that man since you’ve been here.”

 

“That isn’t what I meant.”  Dusan turned his head to her.  “You used the name of Greenwood’s project.  Do you really think he’ll be happy about that?”

 

Suzanne glared at him. “Do you really think any of us are leaving this place alive enough for that to matter?”

 

Something settled in Dusan’s eyes.  He sighed again and turned back to Wrench.  “…I’m going to get some coffee.”  He stood up and made for the door.  “Do you want anything?”

 

Suzanne shook her head.  “Yes, but I’ll get it myself.  I need to take a walk anyway…”

 

Dusan nodded.  “…Fair.”  With that, Dusan left the room.  He needed a break himself.

 

Suzanne bit her lip so hard, she almost broke the skin.  She stood and jogged around the desk to Wrench’s bedside, dodging his IVs to pull the light mask off of him and set it aside.  She lifted an eyelid and checked his pupil’s dilation before letting it close again.  She sat on a small stool she used while checking him over and leaned on the bedside, pinching the bridge of her nose.  “…I’m so sorry, sweetie…”  She whispered over him, reaching down and touching Wrench’s sleeping face.  “You’ve been here for so long, you must be so tired…”

 

Wrench didn’t stir.  Whatever they had in his IV was doing a good job of keeping him out cold.  Another IV fed him a solution that made his mind susceptible to accepting the images she was beaming into him.  She’d made it herself.

 

It had been years since Suzanne thought she’d finally left her past behind her.  She watched a friend die on a news broadcast and dropped everything about the project immediately after.  She let herself never touch the research again, but her mind held onto it like a time capsule.  It never let her forget a name, or a face.  She donated much of her wealth from her subsequent career to the families of those hurt by her experiment anonymously, but she never forgave herself.  She had hoped that it would all just remain a painful memory.

 

Then the CIA ripped her out of her office and planted her in a room with a scared blond boy.  They told her to resurrect an experiment that should never have existed, or they would put a bullet in his head.

 

She was beginning to wonder now if that would have been a preferable fate.

 

There was a table of syringes and bottles of drugs nearby that she used to help clear Wrench’s head after every session in the machine, and she knew the doses by heart.  She lifted one and drew the needed dose into the syringe, bringing it to Wrench’s neck.  “It’s not going to make it go away completely…  But I bet you know that.  You probably know exactly where you are, and that’s why you’re so, so strong…”  After the first injection, she set that syringe aside to be thrown away and picked up another.  She grabbed second bottle and inserted the syringe.

 

She stared at the bottle for a few seconds.  She’d been administering pentothal to Wrench in small doses all month to keep him asleep.  She’d mouthed a soft apology to him when he first went under, staring into his eyes with a promise that she’d take care of him, and she wouldn’t let him die at the hands of these people.

 

In small doses, this pentothal kept Wrench asleep.  In a large enough dose, Wrench would never wake up again.  It would be better.  She’d probably be killed for it, but Wrench wouldn’t have to suffer anymore, and these bastards wouldn’t get anything they wanted.

 

She pulled the plunger back and drew in far too much pentothal with a sad sigh.  “…I’m not going to let them hurt you anymore…” She set the bottle down and brushed back Wrench’s hair.  “I don’t know if you can hear me; That part of the research was always a bit of a grey area…  But I need you to know that you’re so brave.  I wish there was something I could do to get you out, but there’s not…  And I wish I could have met you for real.”  She brought the second syringe to his neck, poised over his artery.

 

She froze.  She bit her lip as she watched Wrench’s sleeping face.  His breathing was slow, and calm.  His lips barely parted and let a soft noise escape.

 

Suzanne yanked her hand back and leaned away from the bed, giving a frustrated groan.  Watching someone die from her work was hard enough.  Watching a young man kill himself over and over again to protect his friends was worse.  But she couldn’t take a life that didn’t deserve it, even as a mercy killing.  “I’m so sorry…”  She pushed herself up from the stool and tucked the syringe in her lab coat pocket.  She needed to breathe.

 

She exited the room past the two men on either side of the door.  They gave her dismissive looks as she walked past them, but they didn’t stop her.  She was on a short leash here, and she wasn’t a danger to any of them.  It wasn’t like she could go anywhere.

 

She walked the long hall past the elevator that wouldn’t open for her.  Past some offices on the other side of the building was a small break room that was stocked with a few snacks and a coffee machine but not much else.  It was usually empty, which was just as well; Suzanne didn’t want those agents leering at her as she ate.

 

The room was vacant per the norm as she walked in.  She sighed into the room and moved to the coffee maker.  Half a pot of coffee sat there waiting, and she took a Styrofoam cup from the stack, filling it.  She made a face as the temperature of the cup didn’t change, and she dipped her finger into the coffee.  It was cold.

 

She glared at it.  “…Cold coffee.”  Her frustration turned to rage as she chucked the cup at the nearby wall with a yell.  She took a few deep breaths and leaned on the counter, gripping her head and squeezing her eyes shut.

 

“Ma’am?”

 

Suzanne jumped and stood up straight, spinning to regard whoever had spoken.  An armed guard stood there in the doorway with his weapon poised.  “Jesus, you scared me.”

 

The guard nodded at her.  “I think you oughtta take a walk with me.  You’re looking stressed.”

 

She took a deep breath and shook her head.  “No.  No I’m fine, I just… needed a minute.”

 

He took a step inside.  “Gonna have to insist.  The boss needs you at your best, and you’re not looking so hot.”  He made his way to Suzanne’s side and placed his hand on her arm to guide her.  “Come on.  Let’s get you some air.”

 

Suzanne bit her lip, but she went where she was being led.  It wasn’t like she really had a choice.  The man was heavily armed, and it wasn’t like he could kill her; They needed her for her work.

 

So why did this feel so strange?  As he walked her down the hall, she noted that this guard’s hold on her was different.  It was more urgent as she stumbled forward, helping her if she missed a step instead of dragging her back into stride.  It was gentle, leading her by the elbow instead of digging another bruise into her arm.

 

She had kept her gaze on the floor, but she lifted it to look at the guard.  She’d never seen him before, and they’d patrolled so many agents by her now that she knew she’d seen them all.  This man was new, and gentle, and there was a familiar, kind glint in his eye.

 

He noticed her staring and turned to face her.  He winked.  Her breath left her, and hope filled what space was left behind in her chest.  She dared a smile.

 

Then it left her face.  “Wait.  Wait,  _wait_.  My- My research, they’ll use it-”

 

The fake’s visage cracked, and he looked concerned.  “Not really important right now, miss Katchadourian,” His voice was low.  “We got this one shot to get you out, and we gotta take it.”

 

Suzanne tugged away and turned around to face him.  “My  _patient_  then.  I’m not leaving without him.”  She turned away and began her march back down the hall.

 

The man hurried after her and was back at her side in seconds.  He took her arm again, but he made no move to redirect her.  “Look, I don’t wanna alarm you, but this place is full of guards if you haven’t noticed.  We do this, and we’re gonna have to go out guns blazing.”

 

“You’ve got the guns, don’t you?”  Suzanne asked, not stopping her stride.

 

They walked the distance to the room in silence, and the fake let Suzanne enter first.  The two guards already out at the door stood fast, but they didn’t seem to react much.

 

The fake nodded to them.  “All right, who wants a break?”

 

The men glanced at each other as if they were sceptical.  They turned back to the newcomer and squinted at him.

 

Hands were raised in defence.  “Hey, I just listen to the boss man.  Somebody’s been here longer, and you’re supposed to take a break.”

 

The men stared at him.  And then back at each.  “I got here first,” One said.

 

“Hell no, dude, I’ve been here for hours.  You  _had_  a break.”

 

The men bickered a bit more before settling it with a match of rock, paper, scissors.  The guard on the left cursed as he lost the match, and the other guard grinned.  “Better luck next time, man.”  He wandered off, and the fake took his place.

 

The abandoned guard sighed.  “Ah well.  Least I’ll be here for the next run on this guy.”

 

They stood in silence.  The new guard glanced down at his weapon and frowned at it.  “Huh.  That’s weird.”  He looked at the butt of his large gun.  “That doesn’t look right.”

 

“What?”  The other guard glanced at it.  “They give you a broken one?”

 

“Yeah, take a look at that, does that look weird to you?”  He held the end up a bit.

 

The minute the remaining guard leaned to look at it, the newcomer swung the butt of the gun into his face, knocking him out cold.  He grabbed the front of his vest and yanked him into the room, depositing him on the floor and shutting the door behind him.  He turned around—

 

—And froze on the spot.

 

Suzanne was busy pulling sensors off of Wrench and slowly removing the IVs.  She looked up at him.  “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help me?”

 

On the bed, Wrench was stirring.

 

The guard dropped the gun and ran to the bedside, grabbing the edge of it and throwing his hand under Wrench’s head.  The cap flew off of his head at the motion.  “ _Wrench…!_   H-Holy shit, Wrench!”  His voice sounded desperate.  He looked like a man who’d found water after days without it, carefully taking Wrench’s face in his hands.  “Wrench, man, can you hear me?”

 

Suzanne looked at him in shock.  Recognition hit her instantly.  “Oh my god.  You’re Marcus.”

 

The man, Marcus, looked up at her.  “H-How… How long has he been here?”

 

Suzanne bit her lip.  “Can we worry about that when we’re out, please?”  She turned from them and hurried to her computer to pack it up.  She closed all of her programs and shut the lid, unplugging all of the cords and stuff an external hard drive with her software into a coat pocket.

 

Marcus was shaky as he tried to rouse the unconscious hacker.  “Wrench… Wrench, I need you wake up for me man, please…”  He barely got a response.  It came in soft, broken noises from Wrench’s throat and barely noticeable twitches of his arms.  They seemed to be trying to come up around Marcus’ neck, but he didn’t have the energy.  Marcus ducked his head to Wrench’s shoulder.  “It’s all right now, I got you… I got you, man.  You’re comin’ h-home…”

 

Suzanne smiled and coiled some of her cords, stuffing them into her coat pockets until they bulged. Marcus’ arms tucked under Wrench and peeled him away from the bed shifting Wrench’s arms around his shoulders.

 

The door opened.  Suzanne spun in horror.  The second guard had returned early.  His gun was immediately drawn the moment he saw his co-worker on the floor, and it was locked on Marcus and Wrench.  The guard tilted his head with a grin.  “Forgot Ben here had my lighter.  Lucky me.”

 

Suzanne’s heart plummeted.  Then, it launched back into her chest with a vengeance.  “No!”  She threw herself at the man and grabbed at the gun.

 

The guard shook her off and caught her in the side of the head with the gun, sending her to the floor.  Her vision swam.  The guard poised his gun back on Marcus, who had tucked Wrench’s weak form behind his back.  “God, you people are irritating.”

 

Suzanne gritted her teeth.  She reached into her pocket and pulled out the syringe.  With a frustrated shriek, she pushed off the floor and jammed the needle into the guard’s thigh, pushing the plunger.  The guard jerked back with a bark of pain, crashing into the wall.  He pulled the syringe out of his leg and stared at it.  He looked down at Suzanne in confusion.  Then, the syringe tumbled from his fingers, and he collapsed onto the ground.

 

Suzanne kicked away from him and held her head in pain.  “Fuck…”

 

Marcus caught his breath.  “You good?”

 

Suzanne winced and forced herself to stand.  “Yeah, I’m good.  Damn, that hurt…”  She forced herself to stand and steadied herself.  She leaned down and picked up the gun Marcus had thrown to the floor, holding it back out to him.  “Maybe when you’re infiltrating a CIA compound, don’t put your weapons down until you’re home free, hm?”

 

Marcus took the gun back.  “Woman, you need to give me a damn minute.”  As exasperated as he sounded, it was all among relief and a smile.  “I just got my best friend back.”  He turned and carefully propped Wrench up, holding his shoulders.  “Wrench, you in there man?”

 

Wrench blearily lifted his head, steely eyes cracking open just enough to peer at the man before him.  “…M-… Mar-…”  His breathing was heavy, like trying to speak was taking a lot out of him.

 

Suzanne tucked her laptop under her arm and moved to Marcus’ side.  “He’s going to be extremely groggy for another few hours.  I’ve been keeping him under with pentothal.”

 

Marcus glanced at the guard who’d been injected.  “That what you gave him?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How long have we got before he wakes up?”

 

Suzanne winced.  “Oh he’s not waking up.”

 

Marcus gave her an impressed glanced.  “Cool.  Help me with him.”

 

Suzanne tucked herself on Wrench’s free side and pulled his arm around her, keeping her laptop under her other arm.  Marcus slid to Wrench’s other side, and they both stood up with him in tow.  Wrench’s head lulled between them, closer to Marcus, and his arms tensed as he tried to hold on.

 

Marcus’ hand came up to his ear.  “Josh, I need you clear us a way out.  Bust some lights, hack some doors, this ain’t gonna be a clean exit.”  There must have been a response that Suzanne couldn’t hear, because Marcus’ face split in an exhausted, tortured smile.  “…It’s Wrench, man.  I got him.”  He laughed, but it sounded more like a sob.  “He’s alive.”

 

~

 

Dusan leaned against the window sill with his hands braced against it.  He could see his hands shaking, so he gripped the sill harder, staring out at the city.

 

He had not signed up for this.

 

He’d been charged with keeping watch over every simulation they sent Wrench through.  Suzanne was given the schematics of the story, and she followed it to a T, and it was his job to make sure that she wasn’t working to sabotage the project.  After the first few runs, it was still something that seemed like it would be so simple.  Wrench as a person longed for comfort, and he figured his first goal would be to go home.

 

By the fifteenth simulation, Dusan was beginning to feel it.  He was watching Wrench do everything in his power to keep his friends safe, to save Marcus’ life, and no matter how many times they ran him through, he kept beating them.

 

Somehow, it made him feel… hopeful.  He couldn’t pinpoint why, as Wrench’s determination was undermining his own plans as much as they were undermining Greenwood’s.  But watching a young man die, over and over—

 

It was heart breaking.  And he was dying for his friends.

 

As the simulations continued, Dusan found a small part of him rooting for Wrench.  He even grew numb to the visage of himself dying as long as it meant Wrench was still going.  He tried to crush this new rebellious side, but it grew stronger as time went on.

 

About five simulations previously, Greenwood had decided that Dusan’s roll in the simulations needed to be bigger.  Wrench viewed Dusan as his greatest threat, and Wrench’s knowledge that he was involved had clouded every run they went through.  So Greenwood made him a bigger threat.  As the real Dusan grew hesitant, the fake one grew darker and more sinister.

 

He was tired.  This break was supposed to mean the resurgence of Blume, even if it was by another name.  He’d not gotten to touch on it once since he’d been there.  He felt like he’d traded one prison for another, and he was  _tired._

 

The lights flickered.  His eyes narrowed, and he looked up at them as they flickered again and then went dark.  That pesky ounce of hope flickered with those lights.  “The hackers…”  He ran out of the room, his vanilla coffee forgotten about, and hurried out into the hall.

 

Agents were swarming.  There were flashlights everywhere, and everyone was shouting.  He grabbed one guard as he neared him.  “What’s going on?”

 

“We got guards down on the lower floor!  The doc and the punk are loose!”  He hurried away, with more important things to do.

 

Dusan stared after him.  Dim backup lights kicked on, and Dusan turned and ran for the stairwell.  He flew down the steps after he flung himself through the door, getting down to the ground floor.  There were agents kicking in doors and rushing through the halls, but there were fewer here then he was expecting.  Most of the manpower had to be focused below, assuming that Wrench and Suzanne must still have been down there.  But Dusan knew better.  If they cleared the room past those guards, they weren’t working by themselves.  Suzanne was just a doctor, and Wrench was pumped full of drugs.

 

Dedsec was here.  He ran through an empty looking hall, going through doors that looked like they’d been unlocked.  The locks still ran on the generator, and no one was nearby; They shouldn’t have been open.

 

He pushed office doors open to nobody.  He heard guards running around behind him, but he kept moving.  He opened door after door to surprised office workers, or janitorial staff, all of whom were locked down until the power returned— Whenever that might be.

 

As he neared the end of the hall, he spotted a door slightly ajar.  He beelined for it, tunnel vision not letting him notice anything else.  He threw the door open.

 

His eyes locked with those of Marcus.  Suzanne was outside the window, holding a groggy Wrench on his feet, but he couldn’t focus on her.  All he saw was Marcus— his downfall, his nemesis— inches from escaping Dusan’s revenge.  Marcus’ eyes were pleading.  Dusan had never seen the hacker more afraid than in that moment.

 

“Nemec!  Anything!?”  Came a shout from down the hall.

 

Dusan’s glare stayed laser straight on Marcus.  He took a breath.  “No.  They’re not here.  Keep looking.”

 

The guard moved on.

 

Marcus released a breath and ducked his head, and Dusan was able to take it as a ‘thank you’.  He watched Marcus climb the rest of the way out of the window, and Dusan let the door shut behind him.  He may have been ruining any chance he had at his work rising from the grave, but in that moment, none of it mattered.  Something grew in his chest, and for the first time in that month, he felt like something was going right.

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SIKE


	17. Eye the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit to repost the Playlist I made for this fic!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/actuallycrowley/playlist/43kOY3ZOufgLzY3haBP6ye
> 
> I definitely forgot that I might be the only weirdo who views entire works on here instead of chapter by chapter, not everybody has seen it.

They changed cars three times.  Every time they found a new vehicle, more of the steps between them were Wrench’s own feel carrying him forward.  The more conscious he grew, the shakier and more lost he looked.  Besides his attempt to utter Marcus’ name in the compound, Wrench hadn’t said a word.

 

He was tucked in the back of a nondescript van now on their final leg of the journey back to HQ.  They traded his hospital gown for Marcus’ hoodie, leaving him in that and his boxers, but Wrench still shivered in the back.

 

Marcus was struggling to keep his attention on the road.  His eyes kept flitting to the rear-view mirror, watching Wrench’s face as Suzanne tested his eyes with a small flashlight.  “His eyes are reacting to light is good…  Follow my finger.”  She held a finger and moved it slowly from one side of Wrench’s face to the other.  Wrench’s eyes followed it.  He blinked slowly, and his gaze settled back on Suzanne like he was confused by her presence.

 

Marcus’ curiosity was killing him.  “Why isn’t he saying anything?  What’s wrong with him?”

 

“He’s still out, technically,” Suzanne answered.  “He’s still in a coma.”

 

Marcus turned his head to give her a split second of disbelief.  “But he’s up and walking.  He’s- He’s responding to you, isn’t he?”  His voice was panicking.

 

Suzanne winced.  “Comas don’t really work that way, but calm down.  It’s still medically induced, and he _is_ coming out of it.”  She brought her hands to Wrench’s face and tilted his head back.  “I may have been under duress, but I am very good at my job.”

 

Marcus let out a sigh that was broken against his nerves.  “So… So he’s gonna be okay?”

 

Suzanne paused and turned her gaze downward.  “…That is going to take some work.  It’s probably best if we talk about it when we get wherever we’re going.”

 

They rode in silence for a while longer.  Suzanne continued her check-up of Wrench, making sure he could move his limbs.  Wrench kept his confused gaze locked on her.  Marcus spent more time focused on Wrench than the road.

 

There was so much about the last month that Marcus didn’t know.  It terrified him to think about what Wrench much have gone through in that place.  The sight of Wrench unresponsive on a bed with arms full of IVs had been a reoccurring nightmare of Marcus’, and in the past couple of hours, it had come true.  He’d looked thin, and his skin was chilled under his hands when he finally got to touch him again after weeks and weeks of thinking he’d never get another chance.  Losing Wrench had hurt.  He was afraid that learning what Wrench had gone through in the time they were focused on other things was going to hurt more.

 

Because they hadn’t searched for him.  Although Marcus held out hope that Wrench was alive, even if he hadn’t died in the military base, they had no reason to believe he would survive that long with the CIA.

 

But Wrench _had_ survived.  The guilt was lodged in Marcus’ heart like a sword.

 

As the silence kept its hold, it was slowly being filled with Wrench’s breathing.  It was as if he was becoming more aware of it and trying to keep it from panicking.  Then, the breath hitched.  “…I s-… saw you… _die_ …”

 

Suzanne lifted her head.  “Wrench?”  She held her hands out to him.

 

He back away and pressed into the wall of the van.  “N-No, I… saw you- I _saw you_ -” He began looking around wildly.  “W-Where-…?”

 

Suzanne drew back. “Wrench, calm down, you have to breathe.  I know you’re confused right now-”

 

As Wrench was beginning to hyperventilate, Marcus swung an arm over the back of the seat, reaching for his friend.  “Wrench!  Wrench, calm down, you’re safe!  It’s okay!”

 

Wrench heard Marcus’ voice, and a look of terror came over his face— A look Marcus could see from his mirror.  Wrench seemed so lost and hurt.  What the fuck had those assholes done to him?  Wrench’s lip trembled as he tried to speak again.  “…Marcus…?”

 

“It’s me, man, I’m right here.  I got you.”  He bit his lip and kept his hand back in case Wrench wanted to take it.  “We’re almost home, I promise.  Just a few more blocks.”

 

Wrench stared at him.  “…No…”  His voice was barely a whisper as he ran his hands against the door behind him, trying to grab at something.  “No, no, I can’t go home, I _can’t-_ ”

 

Suzanne lifted her hand to him again.  “You _can_ go home, sweetie.  It’s safe now-”

 

Wrench’s eyes teared up, but he still pressed into the door and grappled for the lock.  He tugged it up and pulled the handle, opening the door.

 

“Holy shit!”  Marcus brought the moving van to a quick stop.  As soon as they did, Wrench tumbled out of the door, landing on his unsteady feet.  He took a few steps away, towards traffic, but Marcus had jumped out of the front seat and caught him around the waist.  A car narrowly missed hitting them as he yanked him back.  “Wrench, stop!  Stop, it’s okay!”

 

“No!”  Wrench struggled against the hold, but the fight wasn’t strong due to how long he’d been on that bed.  “They’ll know, they’ll find you, t-they’ll hurt you-  I-I’ll hurt you…!  I h-have to leave, I can’t be here… I should be dead, I s-should be-…”

 

Suzanne finally managed to scramble out of the van.  She wheeled around to Wrench’s front and took his head in her hands.  “Listen!”  She held him there.  “It wasn’t real!  You’re not a danger to any of your friends, I swear!  Now please, just… calm down.”

 

Wrench breathing still came out desperate, but he stopped struggling enough to look confused.

 

Suzanne sighed and let herself relax.  “I’m proof enough of that, right?  I shouldn’t be here, but I am.”  She carefully let go of his face and took a step back.  Then she turned to Marcus.  “We need to take this inside.  Now.”

 

Marcus nodded, but only just loosened his hold on Wrench.  He was still having trouble believing he was there, but he’d stolen enough hugs from Wrench to memorise the angles of his body.  He was thinner and weaker but it was undeniably him, and he didn’t want to lose that contact for a second.  “We’re basically here.  Come on, it’s up this way.”  He jerked his chin in the direction of the game store a block away.

 

Wrench’s steps were not his own.  Marcus was at his left, Suzanne at his right, and they were the ones walking.  Every time Wrench touched a foot down, it was a meagre attempt to get them to stop.  Wrench kept mumbling that they couldn’t trust him— That he was dangerous, that he was going to hurt them like Josh.

 

Marcus didn’t know what most of it meant, but he could tell from Suzanne’s face that it would be explained.

 

The game shop was scarce of people.  They led Wrench to the back, Marcus’ hand tight at his side and Wrench turned into his shoulder and buried his eyes away.  He was trying not to watch Marcus put in the code.  The door slid open, and they stepped inside, letting it shut behind them.

 

They got Wrench halfway down the stairs before Sitara rounded the corner and nearly tackled them.  She didn’t have any words for him— Only a tight, sudden, and desperate yank out of Marcus and Suzanne’s hold and into her own.  She shook with happy sobs as her short hair cascaded over Wrench’s shoulder, gripping him against her like he’d disappear if she didn’t.  Wrench barely had the energy to hold her back, but he tried his best, looking lost over her shoulder.  He didn’t seem to understand why she was so happy to see him.

 

She pulled back enough to sniffle and took Wrench’s face in her hands.  “Don’t you _ever_ fucking do that to me again, you ass.”

 

Wrench stared at her for a few seconds before taking a short, nervous breath.  “D-Did you cut your hair?”

 

Sitara smiled, bright enough that her tears were barely noticeable.  “Welcome home, Wrench.”

 

There was that word again.  Wrench buckled under it like it was some awful thing, and Marcus and Sitara caught him.  Marcus lifted his head to Sitara.  “Couch, get him to the couch.”

 

They descended the rest of the stairs against the will of Wrench’s legs trying to pull him back up and out the door.  Sitara turned a concerned gaze to Marcus as Wrench weakly fought them both, and Marcus shook his head at her.

 

As they rounded their way into the main room, Wrench finally stopped struggling and stared with wide eyes.

 

Josh was standing in the centre of the room with his eyes downcast, but he was moving from foot to foot like he was convincing himself to move.  He lifted his gaze enough to meet Wrench’s eyes.  The shifting stopped.  “…I was trying to think of what to say.”

 

Wrench’s muscles tensed in their hold, and he jerked free from them.  His feet were unsteady, but his path was clear and unbroken.  He threw his arms around Josh and clung to him like he was trying to phase through him.

 

Josh twitched at the sudden hug.  He’d gotten better at handling hugs he wasn’t warned about on purpose so his friends could take what they needed from him, but he’d never been hugged like this before.  He’d never been hugged like he was the most important person in the room, and with such passion that he knew, unquestioningly, that he was loved.  His eyes teared up at the thought, but he barely got to dwell on it.

 

“Y-You’re alive…!”  Wrench was barely audible.  “…You’re… alive…”

 

Just as suddenly as Wrench was wrapped around him, he grew lax.  Josh reacted in time, and caught him before he slid to the floor.  “Oh-!”  He winced, not exactly able to keep them both standing, and tried to guide them slowly to the floor instead.  Once he was seated, he tried to pull Wrench up.

 

He was unconscious again.

 

“W-…What happened?”  Josh asked, tears still in his eyes, but his need for knowledge loud and clear in his voice.

 

Marcus ran to their side and shuffled Wrench into his arms.  “Come on Josh, help me get him to the couch.”  Josh immediately did as he was asked.

 

Suzanne rubbed her temples and spoke before they could worry too much.  “He’s probably exhausted.”

 

Marcus’ eyebrows dipped in confusion.  “Hasn’t he been asleep?”

 

“Absolutely not,” Suzanne corrected.  “Comas and sleep are extremely different.  He just needs to rest until the remaining drugs are out of his system.  He’s still going to be confused when he wakes up, but if he’s more coherent, I’ll be able to explain to him what’s happening now.”

 

Sitara looked at her in disbelief.  “He was in a _coma_?  For how long?”

 

Suzanne sighed.  “What day is it?”

 

And with that question, everyone remembered that, until barely an hour ago, Suzanne had been a prisoner as well.  Marcus stood from the couch’s side and pulled a chair out from the table for Suzanne to sit in.  Josh walked to another chair and sat near her, waiting for whenever there would be an explanation for what just happened and where Wrench had been for the last month.  Sitara sighed and turned away.  “…I’m going to make some coffee.”

 

~

 

Suzanne spent more time warming her hands on her cup than actually drinking her coffee.  She was grateful for the heat.  That room in the compound had been so cold that she still couldn’t feel her fingers.  The temperature here was cozy.  On the couch, Wrench had been bundled in as many blankets as they could find.  She felt happy that he could finally rest and be warm, and she hoped he never had to leave this warmth of home ever again.

 

She tapped her fingers on the warm mug and finally took a sip.  The rest of Dedsec stared.  Suzanne glanced between them.  “I’m guessing you need an explanation.”

 

“You think?”  Sitara was tense, arms crossed.

 

Marcus winced and held a hand up to Suzanne.  “I mean- _yes_ , we do, but like, you can take a minute.”

 

Suzanne shook head her.  “No, I’m fine.  I’m just a little overwhelmed right now, I wasn’t expecting to get out of there alive.”  She took a deep breath.  “On August 25th, I was leaving my office late.  I get so busy, I usually wouldn’t even remember the day, but one of my patients was showing some cognitive improvement after being caught in the explosion.”

 

“From the hospital?”  Marcus asked.

 

“Yes,” Suzanne asked.  “I don’t work at the one that was attacked, but I was taking in the patients who’d received brain damage and couldn’t be cared for anywhere else.”  She stared into her coffee.  “I made a note on my calendar of the improvement and when her next appointment was, and walked out of the office… And then there was a cloth over my face.  I woke up in a hospital room with no windows with a man in a suit who told me I was going to resurrect my late college experiment, or he was going kill the young man that was lying in the bed.”

 

Marcus mouth grew tight.  “Wrench,” He breathed.  Suzanne nodded.

 

Josh flinched.  “Your experiment about dreams.”

 

She nodded again.  “Yes.  My previous experiment was a failure, obviously.  But the man didn’t care, and wanted me to put Wrench through it anyway.”

 

Marcus snarled.  “Man, fuck that suit…”  He hissed.

 

“Greenwood.”  Suzanne’s grip on her coffee tightened.  “His name is a Greenwood.”  She spat his name like she wanted to make sure this group took him and dragged him through a field of broken glass.  She took another breath and continued.  “Wrench his been unconscious for over a month, but he’s not just been asleep; He’s been in my experiment.  He’s been trapped in these simulations for nearly that long.  That’s why he’s confused, and that’s why these next few days are going to be hard.  He isn’t going to know what’s happened and what hasn’t.”

 

Marcus looked heartbroken.  “That’s why he thought you were dead.”

 

Josh swallowed a lump in his throat.  “…That’s why he thought _I_ was dead…”

 

Sitara reached over to Josh and rubbed his arm.  “They made Wrench watch Josh die?”

 

Suzanne closed her eyes.  “They made Wrench _kill_ him.”

 

The room went silent.  SItara’s grip on Josh’s arm tightened, and Marcus covered his mouth.  Josh went stone still.

 

Suzanne set her coffee down and held her hands to Josh.  “I need you to know that he never did any of these things willingly.  It was the way that the simulations were designed.  They made him think he was brainwashed, and Wrench fought every single move they tried to have him make _so_ hard that his simulations were getting crossed.  He was breaking through and seeing older simulations, and he never once led them here.  He never once brought them to your home.”  Her hands formed fists and she settled them on the table.  “He would rather die.”

 

Marcus flinched.  “Nah.  No, I don’t like the sound of that…  I don’t like what that means.”  He looked ready to burst.

 

Suzanne nodded and hunched her shoulders, preparing for what she was about to say.  “Wrench ended every simulation by killing himself so he wouldn’t lead them to you.”

 

Sitara was trembling, but she looked furious rather than scared.  “…H-How many simulations did he go through?”

 

Suzanne frowned and looked back down to the table.  “Twenty nine.”

 

The table grew silent again.  Suzanne sniffed and took another shaky sip of her coffee.  She was so, so tired.

 

~

 

When Wrench woke up, the room was quiet.  He could see the familiar, comfortable, decked-out ceiling, and he let himself be happy for a split second.  It wasn’t some hospital room.  It wasn’t some unfamiliar hotel.  It was _home._

 

Then he shot up from his blankets.  He couldn’t be here.  If he was home, the CIA would follow him here.  He couldn’t stay.

 

Beside him, curled uncomfortably in a chair with his arms crossed, was Marcus, head nodded off to the side as he’d fallen asleep watching over him.  As he looked around, he found Suzanne laying on one of the other couches in the corner.  Sitara and Josh asleep on the other one, propped against each other and snoozing away.  His eyes locked on Josh and wouldn’t move.  He stayed completely still long enough to see for sure that his chest was unwounded and rising and falling like it should.  His sleeping face flinch, and he shifted to lean further into Sitara’s shoulder.  Wrench made a noise that was caught somewhere between relief and frustration.  Was he imagining this?  Was Josh really there?

 

But how the fuck could he be alive?  His head was woozy, and just the act of sitting up as fast as he had was exhausting.  He gripped the back of the couch and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will his head to cooperate.

 

“Wrench?”  Wrench jumped and spun around to face the speaker.  Marcus had woken up.  Wrench watched his face break into a grin.  “H-Hey, man.”

 

Wrench’s breath hitched in a broken whimper, and he kicked himself free of the warm blankets, stumbling off the couch.  Marcus leapt to his feet and hurried to his side.

 

“Whoa, whoa!  Hey, easy, it’s all right!”  He took his arms and tried to gather him back in the blankets.  “You need to rest.”

 

“No.  N-No Marcus, I have to go…!”  Wrench tried to push him off, but his weakened muscles could barely fight him.  “It’s not safe if I’m here, t-they’ll make me hurt you!”

 

The ruckus was rousing the others.  Marcus held tighter.  “They’re not gonna make you do anything, Wrench!  They don’t have you anymore, you’re home.”

 

Wrench double over and dry heaved.

 

Suzanne, who looked more the frazzled from her time on the couch, skidded into view, and Josh and Sitara weren’t far behind her.  Everyone was awake now.  She knelt down.  “Wrench, I need you to look at me and listen.”

 

“No… No, no, you’re dead, you’re not real, you’re not… not real…”  Wrench coughed weakly, but he let Marcus sit him up.

 

“No, _that_ wasn’t real.”  Suzanne tilted his chin up.  “You were never brainwashed.  Dusan never tortured you for information.  I never died.  You never killed your friend.  All of those memories are false.”

 

Wrench’s eyes barely stayed trained on her, and a desperate hand reached out for Marcus’.  “…N-No, that can’t-… How could-…”

 

Suzanne took a breath and readied herself to go over it again, but Marcus spoke instead.  “You’ve been in a coma for over a month, Wrench.  You’ve been asleep, and you just came out of it.”  He squeezed Wrench’s hand.  “But all that shit’s over now, and you’re home.”

 

Suzanne smiled, grateful for Marcus’ intrusion, but she continued anyway.  “I had been keeping you sedated and in a simulation.  I left you clues inside so you could fight your way out and you did.”

 

Wrench swallowed the nerves in his throat.  “…‘Don’t go home’…”  He whispered.

 

“I had my simulation tell you to stay away from your home so they couldn’t find your friends, and you did _so good_ …”  Suzanne bit her lip.  “And now you’re out.  You’re home, and you’ll never hear me tell you to stay away again.  Because you’re safe now.”

 

Wrench’s stare still held disbelief.  He slowly sat back on his knees, collapsing more than actively sitting, and looked up at Josh.  “…None of it… happened?”

 

Sitara shook her head.  “None of it.  The suit was trying to trick you into taking him to us, but you never did.  You never turned on us.”

 

Wrench turned to the floor.  The hand in Marcus’ flinched as he became more aware of what else that meant.  He looked at their clasped hands, and his worried brow dipped in anger.  “… _None_ of it happened…”

 

Suzanne, having been there from the start and for every simulation, sighed softly.  She watched Wrench and Marcus fall in love over and over again.  She watched Wrench get exactly what he wanted, and then have it all ripped away.  She swallowed.  “None.  I’m sorry.”

 

Wrench looked back at the floor and slowly tugged his hand to his chest.  Marcus let go, but he looked concerned.  Wrench squeezed his eyes shut and trembled.

 

Josh’s hands were fidgeting at his sides.  He didn’t know what he could say to Wrench to make him feel better, because something about this was still upsetting him.  So he walked away.  He marched straight for Wrench’s bench and placed his hands carefully on the mask that hadn’t been moved since he had fixed it.  He lifted it from the vest and walked back to the scene.

 

Josh sat slowly in front of Wrench and cleared his throat.  “Here.”

 

Wrench opened his eyes.  The second they fell on the mask, his whole demeanour changed.  His breath left him, his eyes widened, and the shivering stopped.  “…H-… How…?  Greenwood stepped on it, he broke it, he-…”  His arms twitched like he wanted to reach for it.

 

“I fixed it.  It got left behind, and it was cracked, so I fixed it, because they weren’t allowed to have all of you.”  Josh continued to hold it out to him.

 

Wrench’s hands finally rose and tugged the mask free from Josh’s grasp.  He flipped it and stared into the view he knew so well but had forgotten.  He took a deep breath, held it, and brought the mask to his face.

 

It was like being splashed in the face with cold water.  He felt awake and alert, even though his body ached, but most of all, he felt ready.  On the outside, the display flickered through his emotions to calibrate, and it landed squared on the slashes to indicate his fury.

 

Marcus rubbed his back.  “The suit did all of this, Wrench.  He fucked up.  He fucked way up when he took you.  Because now we got you back.  All we gotta do now is figure out what his goal is, and he’s done.”

 

Wrench took a breath.  It warmed his face and came out sounding distorted, like it should.  He forced himself to try and stand.  Marcus caught his arms and helped him, but Wrench tugged free again and make his way toward the monitors on his own.

 

On their follower wall, all the screens were dedicated to the case.  Dusan’s face was on a monitor or two, suspicious looking guards sat blurry in a few surveillance shots, there were images of Lenni, there were files that talked about Suzanne’s old experiment, Suzanne’s student ID photo and her eventual license to practice—

 

Right in the middle was a still of Greenwood.  He as grinning at the camera in a familiar hallway that Wrench would recognise in seconds as the military base where he was shot.  Greenwood was centred in their wall like a bullseye, frozen in time in the moment he chose to declare war with Dedsec.

 

Wrench snarled.  “The _suit_ … t-took me away from my home... My  _family_...  He gave me something I wanted like a fucking treat so I’d be a good boy and behave…  He made me hurt you.  He made me kill _Josh_.”  Wrench’s hands formed weak fists.  “He built his coffin and handed us the fucking nails.”  He turned back to his friends, and every one of them looked ready to go.

 

Marcus looked strong.  There was something about the way he was standing that betrayed how long it had been since he was so sure of something.  It betrayed how much he’d lost hope until this very moment.  Greenwood did that to him.  Greenwood tried to break Marcus, and he failed.

 

Wrench gave Marcus a wistful stare, but his anger kept it off his mask.  He planted his unsteady feet.  “It’s time to take him the fuck down.”

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno about y'all, but I am PUMPED.


	18. Rehab

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guuuuys! Sorry for the delay with this chapter, but a lot of shit has gone down the past week and some change that kinda fucked with me. I'm past most of it now, but on a lighter note, the next chapters might still be slower. Why?
> 
> Because I'm working on another project for you! It's kind of a gift I guess, hopefully a two parter, and I'm actually almost done with the first chapter, which is another reason this chapter took so long.
> 
> Just a reminder, by the by, this fic still has a playlist!  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/actuallycrowley/playlist/43kOY3ZOufgLzY3haBP6ye  
> It's constantly changing, and I went ahead and made it collaborative if anybody with spotify wants to add a song they think fits, because I am a SLUT FOR FEEDBACK.
> 
> Description of a panic attack in this chapter btw

That night, Marcus drove Suzanne to a bus stop at the outskirts of the city.  They’d changed her clothes and gave a her a hat, and they got her a ticket with a destination out of state.  She was given a new ID as well, however temporary it was. Her new name was Amanda.

 

Marcus was waiting there at the bus stop with her, and he wouldn’t leave until she was off.  Other people were there with their suitcases and tickets, headphones on, phones out, and not one gave them even a sideways glance.  Marcus was leaning on his knees.  “When you hit that stop, you got some money to catch a cab to Portland.  Go to CC Slaughters, and ask for Sylvia.  Odds are she’s hanging out there.”

 

Suzanne nodded carefully and gripped her head.  “I just… I can’t believe I’m _running_ …”  She took a deep breath.  “I don’t run.  I face the problem, and I fix it.”

 

“All due respect, ma’am, you’re a doctor.  You’re not a soldier, and nobody expects you to stare down the CIA.”  Marcus said, hoping to be of some ease.

 

“Neither are you lot.”  She turned to him and looked into his eyes.  “You’re kids-”

 

“We’re not kids.”

 

Suzanne rolled her eyes.  “Twenty somethings, whatever!  You’re just hackers.  You shouldn’t be expected to fight this battle either.  It's cruel.”

 

Marcus sighed.  “They’re the ones who came busting in our door.  They brought this shit on, this ain’t the first time we’ve been in something like this.”

 

Suzanne tapped her foot.  “Blume.”

 

“They got the FBI involved, you didn’t hear about that.  And we’ve been stuck in gang wars on the daily, we lost somebody to the fuckin’ Tezcas…”  He flinched at his own memory.  He shook it off.  “We’ve been battling more than you know.  Every fight gears us for the next one, and the suit?  Greenwood?  We’re gonna get him.”

 

Suzanne gave the ground a soft smile.  “…That’s fair.  If your way of life produced someone as strong as Wrench, I should have figured that strength was in the rest of you.”  She readjusted the borrowed shirt she was wearing, and her smile faltered.  “I don’t want to rush you, but Wrench was his plan A.  Plan A was slow and arduous, and now that he doesn’t have that anymore… I don’t know what his plan B is, but I know that it’s an acceleration.  He’ll be coming after you harder, with bigger guns, and with more people.”

 

Marcus nodded.  “Yeah, we figured…  But the faster he tries to work, the more likely he is to screw up.  That’s when we can get him.  Nobody’s perfect.”

 

Suzanne lifted her head to look at him again.  “Just remember that neither are you…”  She bit her lip and looked down at her hands.  “…Neither am I…  God I just wish there was something I could have done sooner.”

 

Marcus frowned at her.  “Hey man, you did enough.  You kept him alive.”

 

Suzanne pursed her lips.  “No, I kept him in that damn simulation.  _I_ did that.  It’s my science that put him through all of that, and I watch him kill himself every time I close my eyes.  I watch that brave light go out again, and again, and I…”  She stopped, and her face scrunched up to fight her sorrow.  “If you’d have been ten minutes later, he would have been gone.”

 

Marcus brought a hand to her back.  He wanted to reassure her that it wasn’t true, but it didn’t feel like she was done.  “Come on, you can’t know that…”

 

“I _do_ know that, because I was going to do it!”  He reached up and covered her face.  “I didn’t want him to go through that again, to lose another friend, to keep having to end his life to protect you…  I was going to kill him.  I was in that room where you found me to psych myself up for it.”

 

“…That pentothal you gave the guard was meant for Wrench…”  Marcus whispered.

 

Suzanne nodded.  “They would have killed me for it.  But they wouldn’t have been able to use him anymore…  God, I was going to _kill him_ …”

 

Marcus turned in his seat and gripped her shoulder, and his encouraging face was doing a phenomenal job of hiding the shock of just how close he’d come to losing Wrench for real.  “But you _didn’t_.  You didn’t, and Wrench is alive.  You could have let me walk you out without him, but you didn’t.  You went back in there for him, you made _me_ go back in there to get him out, and because of that, I owe you so _fucking_ much…”  He took a sharp breath.  “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

 

Suzanne’s grief shifted to a bittersweet smile.  She turned to him and watched his face, and in that moment, she saw the same Marcus that Wrench had built in his simulation— The same Marcus she’d watched return every ounce of love that Wrench had for him.  “I think I have an idea.”  She looked back down at the sidewalk.  Despite her new status as a fugitive, she had a feeling now that everything would be all right.

 

In the distance, her bus approached.  They stood up, and Marcus handed her the envelope containing her ticket.  “It’s a sixteen-hour bus ride.  Your burner’s got all our numbers loaded.  If you need anything on the way there, you call one of us and let us know, okay?”

 

Suzanne took the envelope in careful hands and opened it.  “…You know he never killed you.”

 

Marcus arched an eyebrow.  “What?”

 

“Wrench.  In the simulations.  Each one was different, and they’d forced him to kill someone in each… but he never once let it be you no matter how hard they tried.”  Suzanne patted his face and gave him a tired smile.  “He was holding out for you as much as you were for him.  You’re his rock, Marcus.”

 

The bus door opened, and Suzanne turned away and joined the line of people.  She found a seat by the window and waved at Marcus.

 

Marcus lifted a hand to wave back, and the bus door closed as it began its journey away.

 

He didn’t know what to make of the news.  It filled his chest with fire, and all he wanted to do now was go back home, gather Wrench in his arms and never let go.

 

~

 

Wrench had forgetting what his own clothing was like.  Everything was still a bit loose due to his loss of muscle mass, but these were _his_ pants.  This was _his_ shirt.  These were _his_ ratty shoes that he’d only stopped wearing a few months before because Sitara had bought him a new pair.  Even though they all thought he was dead, they didn’t get rid of any of his things.

 

He knew he should have expected it.  None of them had gotten rid of Horatio’s things either.  But there was something so viscerally heart breaking to come back to it all.  They had lost him, and they left every visible reminder of him completely alone.  They laid his face on his abandoned work bench so it would look out at them every day, and they would remember why they kept fighting…  Wrench was having trouble comprehending that level of love.

 

Also worn again was his studded vest.  He’d laid it over Josh the night he’d left, and they’d carefully folded it as a bed for his mask.  After so long of not being himself, so long of being maskless and in clothing too large or too new, he finally felt normal.

 

“Oh ew, am I gonna have to buy you new shoes again?”  Sitara asked, leaning against a pillar with her arms crossed and a smile on her face.

 

Wrench lifted his head to regard her, and the mask echoed his amusement.  “You can have my shoes when you pry them from my severed legs.”

 

Sitara snorted and pushed off from the pillar, arms out as she walked straight for Wrench to throw her arms around him.

 

Wrench flinched.  “Ah!  Watch out, I’m sharp again!”

 

Sitara pulled him tighter.  “I do not even care, dude.”  She pressed the side of her face against his to make a point.  “I’m just so happy you’re here…”

 

Wrench relented, mostly out of need to just be in someone’s arms, and hugged her back.  She was warm.  Josh had been warm, Marcus had been warm; He hadn’t realised just how cold he’d been until now.  In the simulations, even when he was hugging one of them— even in the heat of Marcus’ passion and the blankets of that hotel bed— he’d still had a chill in his bones that he couldn’t shake.  His body had known that he was still in that damn room.  Now the warmth had planted itself deep and was sprouting through every limb.  This was real.  Sitara was solid.  Josh was alive.  He was home.

 

That word no longer sent him running.  He felt no push to do something awful to any of them, he didn’t hear the ringing, and his head wasn’t pounding anymore like he was fighting something.  He was dizzy, but Suzanne had told him that he could expect that for a few days.  He still wasn’t used to truly being awake.  He’d get there eventually, and he’d have to get active again to rehabilitate his body after being inactive for a month.

 

For now, he rehabilitated his arms by hugging his friends as hard as he could.

 

“I do like your hair,” Wrench finally said.

 

Sitara laughed.  “Oh yeah?”  She tugged back enough to look at his mask.  It was so good to see it lighting up with emotion again.  “Thanks, I chopped it all off myself.”  She straightened out Wrench’s vest.  “They put my fucking face in the news, so all that purple had to go.”

 

“Is that why you’re missing something?”  Wrench gestured to his nose area.

 

“Sort of missing.”  Sitara smiled and lifted hand to her nose, flipping the barbell out and wiggling her nose at him.  “Incognito.”

 

“Incog- _neato_ , more like.”  Wrench said.

 

Sitara bit back a laugh and punched him weakly in the shoulder.  “Shut up.”

 

About ten feet away, Josh was standing just behind the pillar.  He was watching them like he wanted to say something, but he was afraid to interrupt.  Sitara glanced back at him first and held her hand out to him.  “Come on Josh, you know better than to be polite around us.”

 

Josh taped his foot and closed the distance between them, but he didn’t touch them.  “I’m still getting used to it.”

 

“Being impolite?”  Wrench asked, grinning behind his mask.

 

Josh looked up from the floor.  “Seeing you.  Here.  Then waking up and it’s real.”  His eyes were spending an absurd amount of time for him on Wrench’s mask.  “Usually I wake up and the mask is back on the table, and none of it’s happened.”

 

Sitara looked between the two of them and took Wrench’s hand.  She reached over and took Josh’s as well.  “It’s real this time.  And we’re not going to let it happen to anyone else.  You know that Marcus won’t either; He’s ready to take on the whole CIA.”

 

Josh glanced at her.  “You should probably tell him that’s not wise.”

 

“Not literally, Josh.”  Sitara reached up and laid her hand on his head.

 

Wrench’s mask could only show so much of his happiness, but he was beaming at them.  Since he’d been here, there was a little piece of his mind that was telling him it wasn’t real.  If everything else was false, what meant that this we reality?  How did he know he wasn’t still in that room, and all of this was being pried out of his head?

 

Now, that part of him was being crushed by the smile on Sitara’s face and Josh’s inability to stop looking at him.  It was crushed by Suzanne’s promises and Marcus gentle handling.  It was crushed by how _different_ reality was.  He couldn’t personally remember every simulation he’d been through, but his mind promised him that this was nothing like them.  He was home.

 

But someone was still missing.  His happy mask flickered to concern as he looked around.  “Where’s Ray?”

 

Sitara’s smile lessened, but not to anything dire.  She shrugged.  “We don’t actually know.  He left shortly after you… disappeared, because he thought that he was too recognisable and that we'd be in danger.”

 

“The FBI has his name and knows he has ties to Dedsec,” Josh added.  “He didn’t want to be anywhere near us if they came for him.”

 

“He has been keeping in touch to let us know he’s okay though.”  Sitara’s eyes lit up.  “Speaking of, mail’s probably here.”  She looked up towards the door.  “I’ll be right back, okay?  And Marcus should be back soon, so we’ll get to work as soon as we’re all here.”  She let Josh’s hand drop and patted Wrench’s shoulder.  Then, she disappeared around the corner and up the stairs.

 

Wrench felt something in his gut coil in warning, but he had gotten the same feeling when Marcus had left.  He knew it was just concern— well founded given their situation— so he tried to push it down into the bowels of his mind, where he was trying to keep the image Marcus’ scream of anguish trapped as well.

 

He must have spent too long staring at the stairs that Josh took notice.  “She’s not leaving the building.  She’ll be okay.  And Marcus has taken precautions.  We’re very careful.”

 

Wrench turned to him.  “Oh I know.  Of course they’ll be fine.  It’s Marcus.  And Sitara, they kick all of the ass.”  He shrugged and rubbed the back of his head.  “It’s just mail.  And delivering a CIA fugitive across town to a brightly lit bus stop with dozens of cameras everywhere.  It’s fine, it’s good.”  His shoulders curved forward to hunch him, his stance protecting himself.  The more he talked, the more his chest felt like it wouldn’t expand.  He took a breath, but it didn’t fill his lungs the way it should have.  “Are the vents working in here?  ‘C-Cause it feels like there’s something wrong with- with the air, and I can’t…  I can’t breathe.”

 

Josh’s fingers flinched against his palms.  “The ventilation is normal,” He promised.  “You’re having a panic attack.”

 

“What?  N-No I-…”  Wrench swallowed in a vain attempt to wet his throat, but it got stuck there.  He arched forward and coughed.  “That’s-… _Stupid_ , I’m not-… I’m not hav-…”  And then his breathing didn’t stop.

 

He swallowed air so fast he couldn’t form anymore words.  Was he getting dizzy?  He ducked his head and felt his chest heave as his head told him to try harder to breathe, that there wasn’t enough air, he needed more, he wasn’t getting more, he needed it, he needed it, _he needed to breathe_ —

 

He was pushed.  He was nudged backward until his calves hit the couch, and he was sitting.  Careful hands cupped his face and tugged at the mask, pulling it away and setting it directly next to him.  “Sorry, I know you don’t like it.”  Josh’s voice cut through the panicked fog in his head.  “Put your head between your knees.  Your heart will be level with your head to facilitate blood flow, and you won’t pass out.”

 

Wrench barely registered the suggestion, but he did as he was told anyway with Josh’s guiding hands pushing his shoulders down.  He breathed short, loud breaths and squeezed his eyes shut.  There were no images that tried to rush to his head, no foggy memories of Marcus screaming or his friends last moments at his own hand.  He wasn’t under anyone’s control.

 

It was just a panic attack.

 

Josh was rubbing his back, Wrench realised.  He’d stayed standing, leaned forward at a strange angle so he could reach Wrench’s back, but keep his feet in Wrench’s view.

 

Eventually his breathing calmed down.  He still had to gasp every few breaths, but eventually he felt his lungs take in a breath so deep, he could sigh in relief.  He stayed leaning over his feet.  “H-… How do you know so much about panic attacks…?”  He asked as soon as he had the voice to.

 

“I’m very good at panic attacks,” Josh answered.

 

Wrench snorted.  “Stopping them?  Or having them?”

 

Josh was quiet for a second.  “…Both.”

 

Wrench lifted is head slowly, and Josh turned around to sit beside him.  Wrench watched him for a few seconds, hand pausing at his other side as it reached for his mask.  He could go another minute or so without it.  His hand settled back in his lap.  “I never see you freak out like that.”

 

Josh shrugged.  “Everybody’s different.  I get stuck in loops sometimes, or I get really quiet and pace a lot.  You hyperventilate.  Did you know that Marcus has them too?”

 

Wrench stared at him.  “…He does?”

 

Josh nodded.  “It’s more like outbursts, but he gets frustrated with himself and hits things.  But only things, not people.”  Josh glanced down at his hands.  “It happened a lot more after you disappeared. But I’d seen it before.  After Horatio.”  His eyes shifted to look over at him again.  “You don’t have to be okay right now.  Or for a while.  We understand.”

 

Wrench bit his lip.  He turned his gaze away from Josh and looked down at his mask.  It stared back him with a blank panel, empty of emotion or light.  He spun back to Josh.

 

Josh’s gaze was stationary on the far wall across from them.  Wrench reach up to the back of his head and tugged the green hood down.  Josh barely flinched.  “…Wrench?”

 

“Sorry.  I just-… gotta-…”  Wrench grabbed a fistful of the back of Josh’s hoodie and tugged himself over to him, burying his face in Josh’s neck now that it was more exposed.  Josh went tense for a few seconds, prompting Wrench to prepare to pull away, but Josh relaxed again and wrapped his arms around him.  Wrench sighed, exhausted, and focused on the pulse resting against his forehead.  Josh was alive.  The panic was subsiding.

 

~

 

The door slid open a few minutes later to Sitara descending the stairs with Marcus in tow.  “Look who I found up there.”  She called.

 

Josh and Wrench were still seated, but they were away from each other now.  Wrench was in his mask and leaned back into the couch with his feet up, and Josh was simply sitting.  Marcus smiled at him, feeling it in his cheeks for the first time in weeks.  “Hey, Wrench.”

 

“Marcus,” Wrench nodded at him.  His body was tense, but he seemed a bit less stressed then before.  There was a slight twitch at the corner of Josh’s mouth that said he was proud of himself.  Something good had happened.  Marcus sat on Wrench’s other side and threw his arm on the back of the couch behind him.

 

“You all right?”  Marcus asked.  There was a rustling of newspaper as Sitara flipped through the circular.

 

Wrench shrugged.  “I’m getting there.”

 

“He had a panic attack.”  Josh mentioned.

 

Wrench kept his gaze on Marcus, but he lifted his hand over to Josh and flailed it around until he found his face, covering it.  “Yes, Josh, thank you.”

 

Marcus shifted his arm down and rubbed Wrench’s back, trying to keep his face encouraging.  “Dude, that’s fair.  I don’t think anybody’s made to bounce back from shit like this.  But here you are anyway.”  Marcus’ smile returned.  “You’re amazing, you know that?”

 

Wrench stared harder.  His mask settled to the default and didn’t give away what he was feeling, because it couldn’t.  _He_ wasn’t even sure what he was feeling.  A part of it resulted from an overwhelming need to lurch forward and kiss Marcus right on the mouth in front of everybody, but he knew he couldn’t do that.  That need, and belief of permission, to do so stemmed from something that didn’t happen.  It wasn’t as if he could throw himself into it anyway.  For once in his life, his mask was in the way.

 

Sitara knelt in front of them with a look of concern on her face.  “There’s no message.”

 

Wrench broke away from his locked gaze and turned to her.  “Is that bad?”

 

“He sends a message every week, this one doesn’t have anything.”  Sitara covered her mouth.  “Oh god tell me they didn’t get him…”

 

Marcus was quick to lean forward.  “Hey, hold on.  Ray knows what he’s doing, he’s gotta be fine, all right?  He probably just forgot.”

 

“He hasn’t forgotten since he left, I don’t… I don’t trust when people go quiet in a situation like this.”  She stood up and walked toward their larger table, tossing the circular on it.

 

Marcus stood up and followed her.  “Maybe it’s in another page?”

 

“No.  He’s been consistent.  Marcus-”

 

The argument continued.  Wrench glanced at Josh, and they both stood to follow them.  As Marcus and Sitara continued debating Ray’s safety, Josh stared down at the circular.  Wrench looked as well.  “What were his messages?”  He asked.

 

Josh pointed to an older newspaper.  “He’d distort letterings in the descriptions of the coupons.  They look like printing errors.”  Josh pointed to the new one.  “This one doesn’t have any.”

 

Wrench squinted at the new paper and the old one.  He saw the old distortions and the lack of them on the new paper, so Sitara had a point.  But also, looking at them side by side, they were still different.

 

“…But-” Josh started.

 

Wrench looked up at him.  “You see it too?”

 

Sitara and Marcus stopped arguing.  They closed in on the table.  Josh turned the two circulars toward them.  “The prices.”

 

Wrench nodded and looked down at the paper.  “Sale prices always end in nines or zeroes.”

 

“And you wouldn’t put pork steaks on a _sale_ for $37.46.”  Marcus said, leaning over them.

 

Josh grabbed a pen from the middle of the table and pulled the newspaper over, circling the strange numbers.  He stared for a second and began to rewrite them at the bottom.  “Not prices.  Not code.” He finished and turned the paper back to everyone else.

 

Sitara beamed at it.  “They’re coordinates.”

 

“Latitude and Longitude.”  Marcus’ grin spanned his face and made it to his eyes.

 

Wrench’s heart beat and imprint of itself on Wrench’s ribs.  Marcus’ smile was one of the great wonders of the world, and all Wrench wanted was for it to stay there forever.  “To where?  What does it mean?”

 

Marcus turned that sunshine smile directly at him.  “Ray’s found something.”

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I counted.
> 
> This story officially has more words than the novel I've been working on for over a year.
> 
> ; ;


	19. Cry Havoc

Wrench was maskless again.  As much as he wanted to leave their compound with it in place, he understood that it was still a beacon from far away, and he was easier to track down with it on.  He got to keep most of his clothes, but Marcus had pulled off his oversized hoodie and traded it for Wrench’s vest.  The vest was folded again and placed back on his bench, but this time, there was an expectation that he would be coming home for it.

 

Wrench pulled the hood up on his borrowed hoodie and relished the feeling of being in Marcus’ warmth again for however long it would last.  Josh had changed into something else as well and had taken his hat off, his hair sticking up in several directions after Sitara’s attempt to ‘fix’ it.  He shouldered a bag with his laptop tucked away inside.

 

Wrench watched Sitara’s eyes follow Josh with a wistful look, rare in their current situation.  He wondered for a moment how accurate those simulations had been.  Had Sitara found a solace within Josh in reality as well?  He wouldn’t blame her if she did.  Josh was amazing.

 

He left it alone as they scaled the stairs with Marcus leading the way.  “I know it’s probably not smart, but we’re taking one car.  No way am I letting any of you outta my sight.”

 

Sitara snorted.  “Easy there, Papa bear.  Nobody was gonna argue.”

 

“I could argue,” Josh muttered.  “We’re an easy target in one vehicle, especially since we’re all familiar faces now, and it’ll be suspicious that we’re all together.”

 

Sitara smirked.  “No one is going to argue to change the _decision_.”  She glanced at Josh.

 

Josh shook his head.  “I’m just thinking about the odds.  I don’t want to split from anyone.”

 

Marcus reached the door with a chuckle.  “Yeah.  Besides, safety in numbers is still a thing.”  He keyed the code.  The door slid open.

 

The next noise was a loud thud against the opposite wall as Wrench, who’d been subconsciously hanging back, slammed against it.  His vision had tunnelled, and his feet had thrown him away from the outside before he could make them stop.

 

Marcus immediately spun around.  “Whoa, Wrench!”  He hurried to his side.  “You good?”

 

Wrench took a sharp breath.  “Yeah!  Yeah, I’m fine, I just-…”  He tried to even out his breathing and gave a nervous laugh.  “That was f-ha-fucking involuntary.”

 

Josh pressed his lips into a thin line.  “It’s okay.  I’m having trouble leaving, too.”

 

Wrench winced and closed his eyes.  Marcus pulled his keys out of his pocket and lobbed them at Sitara.  “Take Josh to the car, we’ll be right out.”

 

Sitara nodded and took Josh’s hand, leading him outside.  Wrench gave a frustrated sigh and slid down the wall, holding his head in his hands.

 

Marcus let the door slide closed and turned back to Wrench.  “Hey.”

 

Wrench stayed hidden.  “Hey.”

 

Marcus sat on the floor in front of him and crossed his legs.  He let Wrench have a few moments to calm down.  “He’s right you know.  It’s okay to have trouble leaving.  You just got back and-…  Man, after what you went through I can’t imagine wanting to leave here ever again.”  He leaned back against the opposite wall.  “We haven’t really got the chance to talk about what happened… Do you wanna talk about it?”

 

Wrench inhaled through his nose.  “Is it really a good time for that shit now?”

 

Marcus gestured around.  “Nobody else is here.  It’s just me and you, and you know I’d never tell anybody anything you didn’t want them to hear.”

 

Wrench seemed to mull it over in silence.  He let his hands drop away from his face.  “I just don’t know what fucking good it’ll do.”  He tilted his head upwards, and the hood dipped over his eyes.

 

Marcus bit his lip and crawled over to Wrench’s side, settling beside him.  “Suzanne told us a lot of what happened in there.  Not everything, but…”  He sighed and turned to him more.  “If you’re worried about what we’ll think, don’t.  We know you would never betray us, and we know you would never kill Josh.”

 

Wrench’s wide eyes bored holes in the opposite wall.  “…J-Josh knows that I-”

 

“He _knows_ that you would never.”  Marcus reached over to his shoulder.  “They were fucking with your head.  And I know that you’re afraid of going out there because you think they’ll get you again, but they won’t.”

 

Wrench turned to him with a sigh.  “How can you promise that?”

 

“Because I would rather die than give them another crack at you.  If they wanna get back to you, they gotta get through me, and I’m not gonna let that happen again.”  Marcus squeezed his arm.  “We’re not letting you out of our sights again, and there ain’t a single member of Dedsec who’s not willing to protect you now.”

 

Wrench frowned, deep and pained, and he covered his face with his hands.  “Fucking _shit_ M, I don’t… I don’t want that, I don’t want people getting hurt because of me.  What if I just stay here?”

 

“By yourself?”

 

Wrench sank further down the wall as that prospect set in.  “God dammit…”

 

Marcus sighed and turned to the door again.  “…After Horatio died…  I had issues whenever anybody else left home.  The world was suddenly dangerous, and everyone I gave a damn about was at risk.  But I had to trust that everyone was going to be okay, that they were taking the same precautions as me.”

 

Wrench huffed.  “How’d you get over it?”

 

Marcus snorted.  “I didn’t.  Why the hell do you think I rushed out after you when I found out you left that night?”

 

Wrench closed his eyes and swallowed his shame.  He opened his mouth to speak, but his words met Marcus’ hand as it closed over his mouth.

 

“If you’re about to apologise, I’ma slap you.”  Marcus left his hand there.  “What you did was dangerous and stupid, but if you didn’t do it, somebody else would have.  They could have gotten me.  They could have gotten _Josh_.  What you did allowed Josh to figure out who was responsible for fucking with us, and that brought us closer to finding you in the end.  You are home now.  And we’ve got a lead.  The suit’s going down in a blazing fireball, and you’re gonna be there with the goddamn match.”  He slowly removed his hand.

 

Wrench felt his chest trying to cave in.  He met Marcus’ eyes and held his gaze for a few moments.  He nodded.  “…Okay.”

 

Marcus accepted every second of that stare.  “Yeah?”

 

Wrench’s gaze dropped, but it was softer now.  “Yeah…  Let’s go set this fucker on fire.”

 

Marcus smiled at him and tugged him forward into a hug.  “I don’t think you know how good it is to have you back…”

 

Wrench revelled in the embrace and took a deep breath.  “No… But I think I’m starting to.”

 

Marcus helped Wrench up and let him key the code in so he wouldn’t be alarmed when the door slid open.  When it did, Wrench stared at the small hallway in frustration.  “Hey, M?”

 

“What’s up, Wrench?”  Came Marcus’ response over his shoulder.

 

“You might have to push me.”

 

~

 

They eventually made it to the car.  Josh had sat in the back, and Sitara had taken the driver’s seat so that Wrench could be by Josh in case he panicked again.  Wrench held it in for the most part.  At one point, he grew uncomfortable with his face being so exposed, and Josh let him hide in his shoulder again.  That had made Marcus smile.

 

It was nice seeing Wrench so trusting of Josh, and it was good to know that Josh was so good at handling Wrench after everything he’d gone through.  Marcus could be there with a kind word and advice, but he was never sure what to do when someone broke down.

 

The coordinates led them to a shabby looking diner with a dark bus stop out front lit by only a flickering street.  There were potentially ten actual parking spots out front with faded paint and potholes everywhere, and only one of them was taken.

 

As they parked and exited the car, Wrench eyed the place up and down.  “Yeah.  Yeah, if Ray were a building, this would be it.”

 

Marcus snorted.

 

Sitara laughed and nudged Wrench’s shoulder.  “What kind of building would I be?”

 

Wrench glanced at her and pondered.  “Like… a roller rink.  Fresh after roller derby, covered in blood and neon girls.”

 

Sitara grinned.  “Ooh, I like the way you think.”

 

They walked inside to the chime of a dented bell and the server greeted them from across the shop.  “Evenin’ folks.  Sit anywhere ya like, it’s slow tonight.”

 

They filed in and sat at the bar.  Now, they would wait for Ray.  How would they tell him they were there?  How would he know?

 

Was the message even from Ray?

 

Wrench was growing nervous, and he shifted to stare at the doorway for anyone else entering.  If he saw anyone familiar from what he could remember of the compound, he’d pounce.  If the people he remembered were even real.

 

The server smiled at them as she approached and took out her check book.  “All right kids, my name’s Tammy.  What can I getcha started with?”

 

“Coffees all around I think.  Uh, unless you don’t want any, man,” Marcus answered, gesturing to Josh at the end.

 

Josh shook his head.  “Just a coke please.”

 

The woman smiled at him.  “Three coffees and a coke.  Y’all check out your menus and I’ll be right back.”

 

She walked away, and Sitara turned to Wrench following his gaze to the door.  “Easy Wrench.  We weren’t followed.  I promise I made sure.”

 

Wrench’s attention snapped away from the door.  “Huh?  Oh.  I’m sure, yeah, I just… I’m just keeping an eye.”

 

Marcus reached out and rubbed his arm.  “So am I, man.”  He lifted his phone and showed him the security feeds he was streaming from his phone, both the inside shot of the door and an outside one of the small lot.  He smiled at him.  “Relax a little.  I got you.”

 

The words lit Wrench’s face on fire, and he ducked his head to hide it.  Christ, he missed his mask right now.  “Sorry.  Just… paranoid.”  He tried to mask his obvious attempt to hide by staring in depth at a menu he tugged off the counter.

 

After a few moments, Tammy returned with their drinks and asked for their orders.  As the others ordered, Wrench realised just how hungry he was.  He figured it had something to do with having been in a coma on IVs for a month, and he should probably start small and eat slow, but all he wanted now was to stuff his face.  Once it was his turn, he squinted at the menu.  “The hell’s a ‘Monte Cristo’?”

 

“Ours is a battered and deep fried ham, turkey and swiss sandwich with powdered sugar and raspberry sauce,” Tammy answered.

 

Marcus laughed.  “Holy shit, that sounds like the kinda thing that goes straight to your arteries.”

 

Wrench handed the menu back to Tammy.  “Give me eight of them.”

 

She gave a shriek of a laugh.  “Honey, how ‘bout we start with one and see where it goes.  They’re more filling then you think, and I don’t think you have room for all that.”

 

Wrench smirked at her.  “Ma’am I think you’re underestimating the bottomless pit capabilities of my stomach.”  He shrugged.  “But yeah, we’ll start with one.”

 

Tammy nodded, tucked her book away and disappeared into the kitchen.  They heard her speaking with the cook, but beyond that, the oldies songs playing from the speakers, and the sound of the TV in the corner playing sports, they were left in silence again.

 

Wrench turned to the door again.  “So where the fuck is Ray?”

 

Josh turned to look as well this time.  “I assume he has a way of knowing that we’re here.  He wouldn’t just not show up.”

 

Wrench flinched.  “Unless the message wasn’t from him.”  His gaze was now firmly locked on the door.  He didn’t want to spill his other thought— that Ray was setting them up— but it had settled in the back of his mind, and he would be ready.  Ready to file everyone out the back to run or ready to fight, he wasn’t sure, but his legs were tense.

 

Marcus rubbed his shoulder but didn’t make him turn away from the door.  “It’s from him.  He’ll be here,” He promised.

 

Wrench wasn’t so sure.  He was still stuck in the mindset that they weren’t safe.  They could have been followed, or this was a trap, or worse, none of this was real.  His muscles were tight, and he was ready to run.  His hand slid up and took a nervous hold of Marcus sleeve.  Marcus let it stay there.

 

They sat quietly for a while.  Josh would glance over at Wrench and then back at his drink, checking to make sure he was still there.  Sitara would rub his back to keep him at ease and would also lift her head when she saw headlights before dropping it back to her coffee when they kept driving by.

 

Marcus’ attention was on Wrench.  He didn’t like that he was so stressed.  He looked ready to fight, but Marcus knew he was still weak from being inactive, and he was going to drain himself.  He kept himself angled toward him to keep an eye around him and to behave like a shield.  He was always close in height to Wrench, but when he was so hunched and feral, he seemed so much smaller.

 

Marcus hated it.

 

“It’s about time you kids showed up.”  Ray’s voice came not from the door, but from behind the bar.

 

Marcus turned, and there stood the old man in a plain t-shirt and an apron, and his dreads were pulled back and covered in a bandana.  He was putting their plates down.

 

Ray smirked at him.  “I told Tammy she could duck out for a cigarette or two.  Took you long enough, I thought I was gonna have to hang out after closing.”

 

Sitara beamed at him.  “Ray!”  She leaned over the counter and her food, tugging the man into a hug and barely missing knocking the rest of the plates out of his grasp.

 

Ray gave a half chuckled.  “Yeah, yeah.  I’m here.”  He patted her back with his free arm and pulled away.  “Sorry I was away so long, but I was busy bustin’ firewalls and keepin’ you safe.  What’s your excuse?”

 

“Yeah, sorry,” Marcus said, happy to see his friend, but also excited to show him the good news.  “We were kinda busy.”  He glanced at Wrench.

 

Wrench had frozen the moment Ray spoke.  The fear pulled his eyes wide, and his view of the door became his view of his potential escape.  His mind filled with images of Ray’s distrusting face and careful posture— his nervous, defensive hands up to protect himself from whatever he thought Wrench might do.  Carefully, Wrench ducked his head and turned to the man, daring to look him in the face.

 

He watched Ray’s realisation of who he was sink in.  The suspicion, the caution—

 

None of that was there.

 

Ray’s face was one of shock.  He set the remaining plates down too hard and hurried around the bar faster than anyone had ever seen the man move.  Wrench flinched.  Ray marched right past Marcus, who let him, and yanked Wrench by the collar into a tight hug.

 

Wrench had not been expecting it at all.  He didn’t know what to do with his hands or if he should even react, and Ray arms were stronger than he thought the old man was.  His arms were the steel of a tower trembling if only to keep the structure from buckling.  Nobody spoke when Ray seemed to laugh— or sob— and cling tighter.  Wrench realised then how wrong he’d had Ray in his head.  As that knowledge settled, Wrench’s body went lax, and he dropped his head to Ray’s shoulder.  Something about the real Ray’s reaction, something about being surrounded by everyone important to him; He felt safe.

 

He hung in that hug for a while.  “Your, uh… two second rule-”

 

“Shut up, I don’t even care about that right now.” The response came quickly and all at once, like he was fighting to keep another emotion at bay under the harsh tone.

 

Wrench did as he was told.

 

Eventually Ray sniffed and pulled away.  He looked him over once and patted his arms.  “Boy, don’t you ever pull that shit again, you hear me?”

 

Wrench could only stare for a few seconds before he finally pulled himself out of his emotional stupor.  “Admit it, you liked it when it was quiet.”

 

Ray shook his head and gripped Wrench’s shoulder like he’d disappear if he let go.  “Not that quiet.”

 

Wrench took a breath, and it felt like his first breath of clean air all month.  A smile of relief cracked his terrified face.  “You big softy.”

 

~

 

They relocated to a booth in the back corner of the diner with all of their food and Ray’s retrieved laptop.  He had it open and was showing them a screen of data that ended in a login.  He looked frustrated.  “I was keepin’ tabs on activity surrounding the code we pulled from your hack, Wrench. 'Fore they took ya.”  He gestured loosely to his computer.  “None of the feeds panned out, they were all bunk, but because somebody was in there fuckin’ with shit, it left a signature, and I’ve been following it.  Waitin’ for it to resurface.  Yesterday, my radar lit the fuck up.  That script blew up and whoever was usin’ it got sloppy.”

 

Sitara shoved fry in her mouth.  “So you tracked it back to this?”

 

Marcus squinted at the screen.  “That activity boost must have happened when we bounced Wrench and the doc.  Suzanne warned me they were gonna accelerate since we fucked their plan A.”

 

Ray idly threw a hand at Wrench’s back to rub it.  “Yeah, we’re gonna fuck their plan B, too.  But I can’t get past this.”  He tapped his fingers on the table.  “I’m in their system, but that was the easy part.  The hard part is that you can’t just hack this bit, you need passwords.  They’re easy enough, just numbers, but you gotta get it right the first time.  It’s CIA security, which means no fooling the program, no trial and error, you gotta get it right the first time, and if ya don’t,” He mimed an explosion.  “Shit goes down.  Agents drop outta the fuckin’ sky, and you’re done.”

 

Marcus sighed.  “And we ain’t got a clue what those numbers are.”

 

“If the suit is this thorough, we’re never gonna know unless we stand over his damn shoulder and watch him key it in.”  Ray huffed.  “If there’s an acceleration in play now, we ain’t got the time or the manpower to sneak a keylogger somewhere.”

 

Josh kept his focus on the screen.  “Do you know how long the password is?”

 

“Seven digits.  A set o’ four, then a set o’ three.”

 

Josh pressed his lips together.  “...Worst case scenario, that’s ten million possible combinations,” He mused.

 

Sitara winced.  “What’s the best-case scenario?”

 

Josh’s eyes dropped to the keyboard for a while.  “…2,939,328”

 

Sitara groaned.  “…That’s marginally better.”

 

Marcus matched her frustration and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "How the fuck are we gonna narrow down from almost three fuckin' million!?"

 

Wrench had his mouth full of sandwich as the others mulled it over.  He was angry at himself for being so close to the suit for so long and being unable to do anything about him, but as he stared at the empty spaces for the passwords, something felt familiar about them.

 

He got a bleary false memory of their hotel door.  He put his sandwich down and pulled the laptop towards him.  Everyone paused to regard him.  “Wrench, do you know the codes?”  Marcus asked, looking nervous and excited.

 

Wrench gave a shrug.  “I dunno, maybe… I’m trying to remember…”  He fully swallowed his bite of food and gripped his head.  “I feel like… like I know it.”

 

Marcus rubbed his shoulder.  “Don’t push yourself.  I know it’s hard to remember that shit.”

 

Ray glanced around at the others.  “Remember what?”  It seemed to dawn on Ray that Wrench being alive now meant that he hadn’t spent the past month being dead.  He’d spent the month in the clutches of the CIA.  Ray leaned in.  “What the fuck did they do to you…?”

 

Wrench sighed.  “Yeah, we’ll get into that once saying it out loud doesn’t make me wanna throw myself off bridge.”

 

Ray caught his other shoulder but said nothing else.

 

Wrench wracked his brain.  He had been trying to make himself forget what happened in the most recent simulation (he’d had little time to focus on the idea that he’d been through more than one), so reaching back in was painful.  He had to flash past the image of Marcus screaming, and Josh’s still face and motionless eyes.  He fished through the memories of the wounds across his body and the cruel promises that Dusan made to hurt his friends, but he found nothing among that horror.

 

Instead, he found answers in the kind words of a teenage boy just trying to help.  “…6172.”  He typed it into the first box without thinking.  He hovered in the second box for a few more moments before he typed in another number.  “219.”

 

He didn’t try to login.  He stared at it and held his breath.  Marcus stared as well.  “You sure?”

 

Wrench barely inhaled.  “I don’t remember any other numbers this clearly.  I don’t remember addresses, or strings of code or anything, but… a code for a bike lock and a hotel room.”  He swallowed his nerves and gave a nervous laugh, like he realised how ridiculous it sounded.  “I don’t know if they actually mean anything.  I could be wrong, I could fuck this up even more than I already have, but if I’m right, we just got those legs up I was trying to get us what I went to that fucking compound in the first place.”

 

Ray pursed his lips and looked down at the table.  He patted Wrench’s shoulder again.  “What have we got to lose?”

 

Marcus smiled.  “If shit goes down, we’ll just fight our way out.  Like we always do.”

 

Sitara reached out to Wrench’s arm as well and squeezed, and Josh gave him the barest of nods.  They trusted him.  All of them.  He had to be right.  He couldn’t let them down.  Wrench held his breath again and struck the enter key.

 

The screen gave way to a stoic desktop with file folders.  Ray let out a battle cry and threw his arms around Wrench again, shaking him back and forth and messing his hair up through his hood.  “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

 

Wrench’s breath escaped in a laugh.  “Suzanne gave me the codes,” He said, tapping his head.  “She shoved them in here in case I got the chance to use them.”

 

Marcus beamed at him.  “She thought of everything, huh?”

 

“I’m guessin’ you guys’ll let me in on who this Suzanne chick is later.”  Ray turned the computer back to him and let his software do its thing.  “Now we just gotta figure out the suit’s end game.”

 

“Project Juno,” Wrench said without hesitation.

 

Sitara turned to Wrench.  “What’s ‘Project Juno’?”

 

“No idea.”  Wrench sighed.  “I remember it from the simulation.  If those random-ass numbers mean something, Juno’s gotta mean something too.”

 

Ray set to work.  He watched the old man’s focus zero in on the screen.  He typed away, digging through god knows what files, as everyone crowded around him in a semicircle.

 

Wrench didn’t want to look.  He didn’t want delve back into the darkness already; It was too soon.  Instead, he watched them work with a newfound love for all of them.  He watched Sitara’s gestures toward the screen and memorised how she held her curled fingers, with her pinky just slightly higher than the rest.  He watched the minute changes in Josh’s expression, so small and unnoticeable unless you knew his face.  He watched how Ray scratched at the hair of his beard as he was piecing together everything he was seeing.

 

And Marcus.

 

He took all of him in— the way his arms tensed as he leaned forward on the table, the way he’d knock his glasses higher on his nose with a knuckle rather than a finger, the curious crane of his neck, and the way his foot bounced under the table— and he was real and solid and _there_.

 

He never realised how he’d seen all these things about his friends, but he committed each motion to memory now.  He’d never lose them again.

 

After a few moments, his eyes were drawn to the moving light of the sole television in the diner.  It was playing the news; a segment about the survivors of the hospital.  Then, he saw his own face.  He felt the air leave the room.  “Guys,” He warned, throwing a hand out and grabbing Marcus’ sleeve before he could stop himself.

 

The discussion stopped.  All eyes were on the TV as the faces of Josh and Sitara followed Wrench’s.  Then Ray’s.  Then _Marcus_.

 

“Shit,” Ray climbed out of the booth and ran at the TV, shutting it off.

 

There was a cough from the door of the kitchen, and Tammy stood in the doorway, a pack of cigarettes in one hand, and he phone in the other.  She locked eyes with Ray.  “…Rick?”

 

Ray winced.  “…Tammy, please.”

 

The woman gave a sigh that aged her and looked down at her cellphone.  Marcus’ hand was poised over his own, ready to disrupt any call she might attempt to make, but she was also a good few feet away from a landline he could do nothing about.

 

Ray tried again.  “This ain’t somethin’ you’re gonna understand-”

 

“Is your name even Rick?”

 

“…Ray.”

 

Tammy sighed and pulled a cigarette from the box, putting it between her lips and lighting up despite being inside.  “Well, Ray, you’re fired, for one.”

 

“Understood.”

 

She sat down on one of the bar stools and sighed.  “Secondly, ya got ten minutes to get the hell outta here.  I dunno what this is all about, but you been the best cook we’ve had, so I owe you this.  And _only_ this.”

 

Ray nodded, and Marcus stood up, taking Wrench’s arm and tugging him out of the booth.  Wrench tugged away.  “Wait, wait!  Can I uh.  Can I get a to-go box?”

 

Tammy arched a brow at him.

 

Wrench winced.  “You’re right, never mind.  I’ll just carry it.”  He grabbed the rest of his sandwich.

 

Marcus groaned a gripped his temples.  “Really dude?  We got ten minutes to fuck off, and you want a box?”

 

“Hey man, I’ve been surviving on IV fluids for a fucking month, I am eating this holy grail of a sandwich if it kills me.”  He stuffed the sandwich in his mouth.

 

Sitara dumped enough money for the bill and a substantial tip on the table and took Josh’s hand to lead him outside.  Marcus gave Tammy a nod.  “Thank you.”  He moved to lead Wrench out.

 

“Don’t mention it.  Ever.”  She called after him.

 

Ray was left with Tammy.  He looked back at the television.  “…We didn’t do it you know.”

 

“Well when y’all get cleared, you can come back for a meal on me.”  Tammy gave him a smile, though it seemed a bit bittersweet.

 

Ray smiled back and nodded.  “Hold ya to that.”  With that, he walked out.

 

They piled into the car with Ray in the passenger seat, back on his laptop.  Sitara drove this time, and Marcus and Josh flanked Wrench in the backseat.  Wrench inhaled the rest of his sandwich, and Marcus winced.  “Slow down dude, or it _will_ kill you.”

 

“I survived the CIA, I am god.”

 

Sitara rolled her eyes as she sped them away from the diner.  “There’s that ego we all know and love.”

 

Ray gave an audible sigh and shut the lid of his laptop.  “…Damn.”

 

“Aw, don’t worry, Ray.  It was just a part time job anyway.”  Marcus reached forward and patted his shoulder.

 

Ray glared back at him.  “This ain’t about that!”  He looked out the window as Sitara took a turn and backtracked further into the city and over the bridge, covering their tracks.  “This whole fuckin’ mess is about to get a whole lot worse, and we’re the only line o’ defence.  This ain’t just CIA, it’s _dirty_ CIA.”  He took an aged breath.  “I gotta ask you kids if you’re ready to die for this, ‘cause this just went way beyond DedSec and way beyond that hospital.”

 

The car grew quiet.  Marcus’ face became serious as his hand wound back and found Wrench’s own.  “How serious are we talkin’ here, Ray?”

 

Ray’s gaze never left the view of the city past the water.  “War.”

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *bursts in through the door* WHAT YEAR IS IT


	20. Project Juno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday everyone! And happy future Saturdays hopefully as I have decided to actually give this poor neglected story an update schedule. I have no idea WHEN on Saturdays this will be updating, but somewhere in my timezone's twenty-four hour period of Saturday, there will be a a new chapter every week! I'll try to let you know ahead of time if I can't make an update.

Dusan felt smug as he sat in a chair across from Greenwood at his desk, but he kept it off of his face.  Greenwood had been on the phone with his sources for hours, and the frustration was clear on his brow.  “-Good.  Let me know when that flight is booked.”  He hung up the phone for the fifth time and took a deep breath in through his nose.

 

“You ought to try meditation.  It’s good for clearing your head.”  Dusan offered, picking at the fraying pleather of his chair.

 

Greenwood glared him down.  “Quite the helpful frog you are for being in such hot water,” he warned, turning to type something into his computer.

 

Dusan’s own glare returned.  “I warned you, Greenwood.  These aren’t some punk teenagers you’re messing with.”  Greenwood’s typing grew louder.  “They’re adults, and they’re intelligent, and the fact that you’re rushing this is going to work to their advantage.”

 

Greenwood’s typing grew furious before it ended in a crescendo of a slam.  “I brought you into this to keep them from being a problem!”  He rounded his desk to rush at Dusan, and Dusan stood to match him.  He was significantly shorter than Greenwood, but his stance didn’t show that he was intimidated at all.

 

“You brought me into this to tell you how to handle them, and I did!  And you ignored every piece of advice that I gave you because you thought that they were a bunch of code monkeys!”  Dusan didn’t back down, even as the warning look in Greenwood’s eye promised that he wasn’t going to fair well after this project was done.  “I’m not the one who underestimated them, Harry.  This mess is on you.”  He took a breath and sat backdown in his seat, crossing one ankle over his knee.  “I provided the news with their photos to slow them down as much as I can, so you can take your _time_ and do this right.  That is my advice.  Whether you take it or not is up to you.”

 

Greenwood stared at Dusan.  His face grew disturbingly calm.  “Noted.”  His voice, pleasant.

 

Dusan drew in a slow breath and sighed, turning and sinking back into his chair.  He leaned on the arm of it and gripped his temples.

 

Greenwood returned to his desk and pressed the call button on the phone.  “Frank, would you please send Agent Law to my upstairs office in an hour?”

 

“ _Yes sir._ ”

 

Greenwood gave his own uplifted sigh and stood in front of Dusan, leaning back on his desk and crossing his arms.  He stared at Dusan’s lap.

 

Dusan felt the stare and returned it with his own frustrated one.  “What?”

 

“Just trying to remember which leg it was.”  Greenwood pulled his gun from his side and fired it into Dusan’s thigh.

 

Dusan’s scream rang across the building as the bullet obliterated a path through muscle and skin, mercifully missing any vital arteries or bones.  It busted through the bottom of the chair before imbedding into the carpeted floor.

 

As Dusan huffed and howled through the pain, Greenwood leaned back over his desk and hit the call button again.  “Oh and Frank?  Send a doctor down here.”

 

“ _O-Of course, sir._ ”

 

Dusan clamped his mouth shut and tried to muffle the adrenaline-fuelled cries, spittle escaping each time he exhaled.  He doubled over his wounded leg, hands hovering over the bullet hole with a fear of touching it, but a need to ease the pain somehow.  He turned a fiery gaze to Greenwood, who looked insincerely sympathetic.  “Sorry about that, my friend.  Just have to protect my last mission asset.”  He patted Dusan’s shoulder.

 

Dusan yanked away from him with a hiss of agony.  “And h-how… does this _fucking_ protect me…!?”

 

Greenwood shrugged.  “Well I don’t know about you, but if these kids come for my final asset, I would think it’s more difficult for them to get it if it can’t run with them.  Don’t you?”  He patted Dusan’s back against his will again and opened the door in time to receive the onsite doctor, who he barely greeted with a nod.  “I’ll send someone down in an hour to brief you.  The plan is coming together, Dusan, whether you think it is or not.”  He walked over the office threshold and turned to face the panting man.

 

“I have absolutely learned a great deal about this team from you, and I thank you for that.  But if anyone is underestimating anybody, it’s you.”  His scowl shifted to a smile again.  “I know how they work, thanks to our missing doctor’s simulation, and our missing patient’s head.  I know how they think, I know what type of code to look for, and I know that they will do whatever they can in their _power_ to protect their own— or an innocent in the crosshairs.”  Greenwood rapped on the doorframe once as the doctor forced Dusan to recline so he could look at his leg.  “So relax!  Have Frank get you a drink or something.  After all of this is over, I _promise_ , people will be begging for the security of Blume’s successor.  Soon, it’ll all be worth it.” His grin made Dusan feel sick.  “Have a good afternoon, Nemec.”  The door was shut.

 

Dusan was left with the doctor, his searing pain, and his regret.

 

~

 

The monitors of HQ were filled with files and photos by the time everyone settled in.  Ray’s dreads were out of their ponytail, and he was in his usual garb again, a face of business in place as the others paid rapt attention.  “This is his plan,” Ray said, arms wide to present the horrific collection of redacted and classified lines of texts.  “A month of fucking with us hard enough that we miss the bright red flag wavin’.”

 

Josh’s attention was on the screens as well, but only one in particular- a photo of a young Chinese girl playing harp on a stage.  “Who is she?”

 

Ray gestured to him.  “‘She’ is the flag.”  He turned to everyone.  “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like you to meet Liling Mao.”  He crossed his arms and turned to the monitor again.  “Fourteen years old, harp prodigy, and the daughter of the head of the Chinese government.”

 

Marcus stood behind the couch that Wrench and Josh were sat on.  He groaned and dropped his head to the cushion.  “Fucking hell, man…”

 

Wrench could feel his fury building again.  “Already hate this.  Great.  What about her?”

 

Sitara made a frustrated noise.  “Oh fuck, I already know this one, _fuck_ …”  She stood from her position seated at Josh’s side on the arm of the couch.  “She was supposed to have come here to play with the San Francisco Symphony two weeks ago.”

 

Ray nodded.  “Her trip got postponed due to the attack on the hospital.  Seems all unrelated an’ shit, ‘til you remember that I got all this from that ‘project Juno’ file.”

 

Marcus’ hands balled into fists.  “She’s the suit’s real target.”

 

“I checked correspondence between the Chinese and American governments, and she’s not planned to be back on track for this trip unless her safety is promised.”  He gestured to another screen behind him.  “Guess who just got the green light?”

 

Sitara ran her fingers through her short hair.  “She’s got the promise of the American government.  If she plays that fucking show, and Greenwood sends another missile…”

 

“She dies,” Ray sighed.  “Her an’ all the folks goin’ to that show.  Loss o’ life will be massive, the major area hospital is still gone, and all the others are right out straight with the new patients already…”

 

“This is terrorism.  Cripple the helpers, and decimate the community.”  Josh’s stare had turned to the floor.

 

Wrench reached over and laid a hand on his shoulder.  He wished he had something, anything kind to add, but he only had more trouble.  “Thousands die, and the Chinese have plenty of reasons to stop trusting the American government…  Plenty of reasons for any alliances we have to fall apart.  Eventually plenty of reasons to start a damn war.”

 

Ray lowered his head and nodded.  “Dedsec gets blamed for all of it.”

 

Marcus crouched behind Wrench and pressed his forehead into his hands.  “Right.  That’s all the fucking bad news, now how the hell do we stop it?”  He bounced to his feet.  “All this doom and gloom, we need a solution, damn it!”

 

Sitara looked like she was wracking her brain.  “She’ll be flying in, right?  Can’t we ground her plane?  Change her tickets?”

 

“With the situation this tense, we can’t do anything that’ll increase suspicion.  Fuckin’ with her flight’s showin’ our hand, and all it’s doing is delaying it.”  Ray moved to another screen that still held Greenwood’s face.  He flicked the screen.  “The suit don’t know that we know yet.  If we can somehow get to Liling when she gets here, and get her to safety, we might buy ourselves enough time to take Greenwood out.”

 

Wrench gave a hiss.  “Okay, serious question.  Did you just suggest that we, suspected domestic terrorists, _kidnap_ the closest thing we’ll get to a Chinese princess to keep her safe?  Because I will give you every _cent_ to my name if you can sell me a probable future where that somehow gets us out of trouble and not _in_ to more of it.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.  It ain’t a complete plan, but all we got’s the start right now.”  Ray walked past the couch and kept going until he found a chair, sitting down with an old grunt and a sigh.  “I don’t wanna send anybody out there without more information.  But any way this goes if we try to stop this, somebody might die.  One of us-…  One of us might die for this.  We won’t know when, or who, it might even be more than one.  If we do this, everybody’s gotta accept that.  Everybody.  I accept it, but I won’t force any of your kids into this. Unanimous vote, or we lay low and deal with the fallout.”

 

Nobody spoke.  The silence was the loudest Wrench had ever heard, and its sudden onset made his ears ring.  He gripped his head in a panic.  What was that ringing?  He wasn’t in the simulation anymore, his ears shouldn’t be ringing like this, he’s free, he’s _free_.

 

Josh raised his hand.  “I accept.”

 

Wrench’s neck strained as he whipped his head to look at him.  “Josh-”

 

“If we can stop a war, it’s worth it.” Josh concluded, dropping his hand and staring at the floor.

 

Sitara came up behind him and dropped a hand to his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.  Her face betrayed how much she was just taking in that Josh was there, now.  But potentially not for long.  She sighed.  “I’m not about to let a little girl and thousands of people die.  I accept.”

 

Marcus rubbed his chin.  He crouched on his ankles and sighed.  “…Ain’t no other way.  If we don’t do this, way more than those thousands of people will die.  War between America and _China_?  Hell no.  We can’t let that happen.”  He cast a glance at Wrench, who he finally gotten back barely one day ago.  He seemed to make a decision.  “I’ll fight like hell so we don’t lose anybody, but… I accept.”

 

And with that, all eyes turned to Wrench.

 

His insides turned to ice.  He was being asked to let them die.  The emotions lurched forward before he could stop them, and he scrambled off of the couch.  “No.  _No._   Fuck-… Fuck this.  Asking me if I’m ‘okay’ with my friends dying- _bullshit!_ ”

 

Marcus went tense.  He took a few steps forward.  “Wrench-”

 

Ray held up a hand.  “Stop.  We ain’t tryin’ to convince nobody.  I said unanimous, and it’s not.”

 

Marcus shook his head. “No, Ray this is something else-”

 

Wrench backed away from everyone and crouched down in front of his bench.  He gripped his head tightly as he tried to sway himself from his panic.  The ringing had returned, and his friends were asking him to accept their deaths.  Why would they do that?  Why would they be so willing to die? It wasn’t real.  I _couldn’t be real._

 

Ray stood from his chair.  “Wrench, what’s goin’ on in there?”  He asked, too gently.

 

Wrench shook his head.  “No, shut up.  All of you shut the hell up, it’s not real.  It’s not _fucking real_ -” He ducked his head further and tucked himself under his workbench, scooting back until he hit the wall.

 

Ray turned a desperate eye to the others as Marcus knelt down by the table, trying to reach for him.  “Wrench, listen to me-”

 

“No-”

 

“ _Listen!_ ”  Marcus tugged Wrench’s hands away from his head and brought them to his own face.  “It’s real.  I’m real, I promise, you’re really here, you’re never gonna wake up in that room again-”

 

Wrench pulled his hands away and squeezed his eyes shut.  “Stop it! Stop it, stop it, _stop it!_ ”  He slapped Marcus’ hands away as he tried to coax him out of his hiding spot.

 

Josh took a few nervous steps toward the bench.  “Should I try to help?”

 

Ray marched over and yanked Marcus back.  “All right, enough!  Give him his damn space!”

 

Marcus yanked his jacket out of Ray’s grip, looking pissed.  “Hey!”

 

“No hey!  All o’ you go upstairs.  Right now.”  Ray pointed at the stairs like an upset parent.

 

Marcus gestured to the cowering hacker.  “We can’t leave him alone, Ray, he thinks he’s in a simulation.”

 

“You ain’t leavin’ him alone, you’re leaving him with me.  Mental health ain’t my specialty, but I’ve done my fair share of research.  I won’t fuck this up.  Now you, Josh, and Sitara go hang out upstairs for a bit.”  He waved them to the stairs.  “He’ll be fine.”

 

Marcus held his stare before straightening out his jacket and walking to the stairs.  He tugged Sitara’s sleeve, and she sighed, following him up.

 

Wrench didn’t want them to go, but he kept reminding himself that they weren’t real.  It didn’t matter.  None of it mattered.

 

As Josh shuffled slowly to the stairs, Ray crouched down to be visible to Wrench, but he kept his distance.  He waited until he heard the door upstairs slide open and close one last time before finally speaking.  “I’m gonna need you to start from the top.”

 

“I don’t have to fucking start anywhere.”  Wrench’s voice was shaking.

 

Ray sighed and glanced up at the bench.  He tugged the mask off of it and set it carefully within Wrench’s reach.  “Try puttin’ that back on.  See if things are clearer.”

 

Wrench flinched at the sight of the mask.  He’d forgotten about it.  He gave a short huff of frustration and closed his eyes.  “It won’t… It won’t matter.”

 

“Do it anyway.”

 

Wrench groaned and ripped the mask from the ground, throwing it over his face for even the slightest amount of comfort.  He stared at the ground through his familiar filter and breathed.  The panic in his chest loosened its grip and he found his breathing starting to even out.

 

Ray sat down fully on the floor and leaned on his knees.  “Talk to me.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you need to talk to somebody.”  Ray sighed.  “You’ve been on edge the entire time you been back that I’ve seen.  You looked _scared_ o’ me earlier.  And now you’re on about how this ain’t real.  We’ve been slammed since we regrouped, and nobody got the chance to brief me about you.  But I don’t wanna hear it from them.” Ray scooted himself another inch forward.  “I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

 

Wrench gave him an incredulous look that translated only to anger on his mask.  “Ready?  You want me to be-” Wrench’s frustration bubbled over, and he pulled himself to sit on his knees.  “I spent ages in a fucking bed being made to kill my friends in my head over and over again, and you want me to just be ‘ready’ to talk about it!?  Fuck you, Ray!”

 

Ray flinched, but it wasn’t at Wrench’s tone.  “That what they did to you?”

 

Wrench deflated a fraction from his rage.  “S-Simulations.  They drugged me and stuck me in some fake world so I’d lead them here.  I don’t even-…  I don’t know for sure I’m not-…”  He swallowed air.  “-Still in that fucking bed.”

 

“You’re not.”

 

“How the fuck can I trust you when you just _say_ it!?”  He leaned back again and pulled his knees back up.  “There’s a ringing in my fucking ears, just like in the fucking sims, and that means-… that means they’re in my head, that means they’re already-…  They know, and they’re coming, and I fucked up.”

 

Ray leaned just enough to place a hand on Wrench’s knee.  “Easy kid… Nobody’s coming.  No suit, no agents— nobody’s gonna get us here.”

 

Wrench glared at the hand, but he didn’t move away from it.  “They wouldn’t be.  They’d be doing it in the real world, where I can’t stop them.  I can’t do anything…”

 

Ray pondered his options.  He gave a sigh and a grunt as he crawled the rest of the way under the table to sit next to Wrench.  He leaned back on the wall as Wrench flinched away.  “You said simulations.  You mean plural.  You know how many?”

 

Wrench bit his lip and shook his head.  “The guys say ‘a lot’…”

 

“How many can you remember?”

 

Wrench’s sigh came out shaky.  “O-One clearly, but-” He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head back hard against the wall.  As his memories jumbled and coiled back to the forefront of his mind, he felt the pain and horror of it all come back.  “I think all of them…?”  His voice was small and confused.  His ribcage felt like it was caving in.

 

“It may not feel like the greatest thing right now, but that’s good.  That’ll make this part easy.”  Ray turned to look at him.  “First lemme get the existential shit outta the way.  This is not a simulation.  This is real.  They’d have no reason to keep you in the sim if they got our location out of you.  Knowin’ the suit, he’d pull you out of it to gloat about it.”

 

Wrench swallowed hard.  “Y-You don’t know that…”

 

Ray shrugged.  “I do.  I also know that I’m not a simulation.  Sure, I thought I was dreamin’ when I saw you at the diner, but I know you’re really here.  I’m really here.  Our friends are really upstairs worried sick about you.”

 

Wrench leaned away and turned his angered mask to the floor.  “How the fuck am I supposed to know any of that’s true?  If it’s not real, your words are just bullshit lines of code I’m stuck listening to while the suit and his posse are busy putting bullets in my friends in real life.”

 

Ray shrugged.  “I guess you don’t.  But you gotta think.  If this is a simulation, how similar is it to the others?  Were they all different?”

 

Wrench wracked his brain.  He didn’t want to remember.  “I don’t-…”  He sucked in a deep breath.  “I don’t know… I think so?”  He tried to pulled the memories from the depth of his mind, where he’d shoved them and tried to forget.

 

“All right.  Was anything the same?”

 

Wrench thought hard.  The ringing in his ears returned, and his head was aching from his staunched emotions.  There were similar aspects of each simulation, but trying to dredge up all of them was painful.  Seeing Marcus rushing at him to try and save him from himself over and over again was just so—

 

Wrench’s head lifted.  “Marcus.”

 

Ray angled himself toward Wrench.  “What about him?”

 

Wrench’s face grew warm behind the mask.  He hadn’t meant to say his name out loud.  “Uh…  He was always the one there at the end…  When I-” He paused.  “...When I made it stop.”

 

The older hacker pursed his lips.  “…Made it stop?”  His question was hesitant.

 

Wrench couldn’t look up.  “I was always brainwashed, but I never-” He took a gratuitous breath to try and even out his breathing.  “I couldn’t let them get to him, so I-…”  He lifted his hand and bent his fingers like a gun, pressing his fore and middle finger to his temple.  He mimed the gun going off.

 

Ray closed his eyes.  He quelled the fury that was building in his chest and threatening to bubble over.  He couldn’t be mad about that now.  He had to help Wrench get out of his head.  “What else?”  He asked.  “Anything that was always there, but isn’t the same now?”

 

Wrench’s chest gave way to relief.  He didn’t want to talk about what it was like to shoot himself; He remembered it vividly enough that he didn’t want to relive it again.  “The mask is new.  I thought it was destroyed, it wasn’t in any of the sims.”

 

“That’s good, that’s good!”  Ray leaned forward a bit.  “You never knew that Josh fixed it.  That means that most o’ what you saw was based on what you knew.  What else?”

 

Wrench’s breath came out lighter.  “Sitara’s hair is different.”

 

“What else?”

 

“Uh y-you were always there right away.”

 

“What else?”

 

Wrench shifted away.  “I can’t think that fast!”

 

Ray leaned back.  “That’s okay.  That’s all right, jus’ try an’ think of as many things as you can.”

 

Wrench breathed in through his nose and nodded.  “Okay…  Suzanne isn’t dead.  Uh,” He focused on his hands, fingernails still in place, a great deal longer than he remembered— he couldn’t chew them off while he was unconscious— and pulled his fingers into fists.  “No torture.  I wasn’t tortured this time.”

 

Ray remained in his position, but he stiffened.

 

“But that could just be so I’m not so on edge…”  Wrench’s body curled up further.

 

“Don’t focus on that,” Ray said, moving a daring hand to Wrench’s shoulder.  “Don’t dwell on it.  Keep thinking of what else is different.”

 

Wrench somehow didn’t flinch away.  As the similarities came to mind, he landed on one that he didn’t want to talk about.  He didn’t need anybody knowing about it, and he definitely didn’t want _Ray_ to know.  Sitara was the only person he ever told, but he always figured that Josh knew from watching him.  Josh was brilliant that way.  Instead of speaking clearly, he mumbled it, barely able to say it aloud.

 

Ray leaned in.  “What was that?”

 

“Marcus!”  Wrench lifted his head to him in frustration, harsher than he’d meant.  He ducked his head again.  “I’m not… I’m not with Marcus.”

 

Ray arched a brow.  “Thought you said he was always there.”

 

Wrench bit his lip.  “No, I’m… not _with_ Marcus.  Like,” He made a vague gesture at the air and looked away.  “Together.  I’m not-… We’re just not.”  He kept his gaze on a sticker on the wall that he remembered placing there once when he was drunk.  It was far more interesting than seeing Ray judge him.

 

“All right,” Ray’s voice had dipped to a strange, comforting tone.  “What else then?”

 

Wrench’s frustration hit a boiling point.  “What is the fucking point!?”  He asked.  “Why does any of this shit matter to you!?”

 

“Because it matters to you, kid.  I’m trying to anchor you.”  Ray held up a hand and starting ticking off his fingers.  “Your mask, Suzanne, Sitara’s hair, the torture, bein’ with Marcus,” He paused.  “Though I don’t think we oughta count that last one; All these things being different are what you need to hold on to right now.  It’s proof they don’t have you anymore.  What else is there?”

 

Wrench stared at him.  His ribcage threatened to cave in.  He was hearing the point Ray was trying to make, but as it settled in his bones, he wasn’t sure he wanted to accept it.  “H-Home.  I-I’ve never been home because-… b-because I never led them here.  That was why they put me in there, they were trying to get me to come here so they could find you.”

 

Ray nodded.  “How’d you get here?”

 

Wrench swallowed again.  “Marcus.”  There was a lump in his throat that told him he was going to cry soon.  He tried to force it away.

 

Ray offered him a smile.  “If you didn’t lead them here, how would they have found it?”  The smile was knowing, and held a promise.  “Anything else?”

 

Wrench’s chest heaved a sob of exhaustion as he sat back against the wall.  “F-Fuck…”  He sniffled and jammed his hands under his mask to wipe at his eyes.  “You.  You’re f-fucking different.  You never trusted me, you were always so- so fucking antsy and cautious like I was gonna betray you, and then I did, and you were _right_ , you were right every _fucking time_ -”

 

Ray had shuffled forward and caught Wrench’s shoulders.  “ _Hey_.  You knock that train of thought off right now.  That me was wrong as hell, and I ain’t ever plannin’ on bein’ him, got it?  I trust the hell outta you, and you ever doubt that, you smack me one so I can explain it again.  You’re a hot mess, Wrench, but I wouldn’t replace you on this team, havin’ my back, with nobody.”

 

Wrench shook his head.  He squeezed his eyes shut as his mask defaulted, unable to keep up with his emotions.  “B-But the ringing…?”

 

“That’s stress,” Ray said.  “I dunno how to make it stop, but that is a sign of stress.  And you are under a whole lot of it.”

 

Wrench’s head dipped to gaze at the floor.  His shoulders quaked, but Ray held him upright.

 

“Tell me what yer thinkin’, kid.”  Ray continued to hold him.

 

Wrench’s tense, trembling shoulders went lax.  “…It’s not real.”  He forced Ray’s hands off of him and finally crawled out from under the table.  With a few grunts of effort, the older man followed suite.

 

Wrench pulled off his mask and took a deep gulp of air, turning it over and staring at himself.  “I-If it’s real, then… then this actually happening.  We’re stuck in this bullshit plan with some fucked up CIA goon at the head of everything, and we have to stop a _war_ , and… and I have to be okay with all of you running head on into that shit storm I just got out of and I-…”  He gripped the mask too tightly.

 

Ray made his way over and gently took the mask from Wrench’s shaking hands.  “You don’t have to be.  I said it earlier, this had to be a unanimous decision.  If you don’t wanna do this, we don’t do it.  Simple as that.”

 

Wrench watched the mask with red eyes as Ray held it just as carefully as he’d been holding his shoulders earlier.  He lifted his head to the staircase leading to their friends and gave a sob of a sigh.  “…You think they’d forgive me…?”

 

“They would.  You know they would.  I would.”  Ray moved a bit closer and planted Wrench’s mask back on his face where it belonged.  “Would you?”

 

Beneath the mask, Wrench let his face twist into one of grief.  He sucked in one last breath and dropped his gaze to the ground.  He would not.  If they sat back and let a war happen because of him, he’d never be able to face any of them.  “…No.”

 

Ray watched Wrench struggle with his decision.  Then, he pulled him into another hug, embracing Wrench whole, mask and all.  “Then we’ll fight ‘em.  We’ll fight with everything we got, and no matter what happens, we fuckin’ tried.”

 

Wrench let himself rest against the hug.  It felt odd to be this close to the old hacker, especially with how his head had treated him.  He’d always been wary of Ray despite Marcus’ promises that he was good, but here in his hold, the memories of the distrusting man were being washed away.  This wasn’t the lie.  This wasn’t that man, and he never would be.

 

He finally wet his dry throat enough to speak.  “When did you get so good with shit like this?”  He asked into his shoulder.

 

Ray shrugged but didn’t let go.  “…Gotta atone somehow, don’t I?”

 

Wrench didn’t respond.  Ray’s voice had a note of guilt that Wrench didn’t want to dredge up any further, and he knew that it wasn’t for him.  He didn’t mind; Ray was a deep well, and Wrench felt a strange growth of his ego to get this much out of the man.

 

After a good minute of composure, Wrench allowed himself a chuckle.  Ray pulled away just enough to look at him.  “What?”

 

“I totally went over your two second limit twice today.”

 

Ray rolled his eyes and playfully whacked Wrench in the side of the head.  “Shut the hell up.”

 

~

 

Agent Ru Law brought her family immeasurable pride.  She was twenty-nine, strong, quick-reflexed, and smarter than most people if anyone asked her mother.  Two years previously, she’d begun her eighteen-month training, and now she was six months into her first official year as an agent of the CIA.  Her mother could not be convinced to stop telling all her friends back home that her daughter was a super-secret spy (which wasn’t even remotely true given Ru’s workload) but Ru had asked her superiors, and they had said there was no harm in her mother’s oversharing.  Ru Law was, after all, a well-known liaison when dealing with the Chinese government, and could never actually be, as her mother swore, a spy.  Ru should be just as proud.  She should be happy.

 

But six months into working under a very secretive senior agent was taking its toll.  Harold Greenwood had been the most unnerving boss she had ever had.  He always sent her on missions while briefing her only to the barest minimum.  There was always something dead in his eyes that made her uncomfortable, but she couldn’t complain about such a thing to anyone above him; ‘He creeps me out’ without a proper explanation was a quick way to get laughed out of an office.  And Greenwood was nice enough, but nice in the way the witch was as she offered sweets to Hansel and Gretel.  Ru was constantly on edge and still waiting to be shoved into a furnace.

 

She stood outside his office door for longer than she’d meant to, reminding herself over and over of her mother saying how proud she was, and how this was only a temporary assignment.  Eventually she’d be a higher agent, and Greenwood would be retired.  Everything would be fine.

 

She took a deep breath and knocked.

 

“Come on in!”

 

She bit her lip and turned the handle.  Greenwood was sat behind his desk with a grin that would have put the Cheshire Cat to shame.  “Ah, Agent Law!  Please, please, sit.”  He gestured her to one of the seats in front of his desk.

 

Ru gave him a closed smile and sat in the chair nearest the door.  Greenwood’s office had a wide window that overlooked the bay, but Ru was concerned with an escape from her seat; a hundred-foot drop was not her best option.  “You wanted to see me, sir?”

 

“Yes.” He handed her a file and laced his hands on his desk.  “This is your next assignment.”

 

Ru took the file from him and flipped it open, happy to have the distraction from her unease.  The first thing that caught her attention was the little girl; she knew who she was.  “This is the Premier of China’s daughter.”

 

“Oh, very good.  You didn’t even have to look.”

 

Ru gave a genuine smile.  “My mother is a fan of her harp music.  And she keeps tabs on politics from home.”

 

Greenwood gives a nod.  “Of course.  You’ll get more from the file, but miss Mao is going to be in San Fransisco to play with the Orchestra.  Now her father and her government have placed trust in our ability to keep her safe.  Being that we haven’t been able to take out the Dedsec threat just yet, we’re assigning you as her personal guard while she’s here.  She’ll have her own of course, but the Premier would like one of our agents to be there as an extra precaution.”  He leaned back in his chair.  “She’ll be arriving at the San Francisco International Airport in two days.  When and what gate are in that file.”

 

Ru nodded.  “Understood, sir.”  She was pleased with this assignment.  She was never privy to Greenwood’s own assignments with the Dedsec terrorists.  If it ever came up in conversation, Greenwood only promised that he was ‘making progress’, but he never explained how.  Ru didn’t care much for the explanation as it was, and the look on his consultant’s face always said she was better off not knowing.

 

She stood to leave, but Greenwood held a hand up.  “Oh, one moment.”  He opened a drawer under his desk and pulled out a cell phone.  “During this assignment, you must keep this phone with you, as we will only be contacting you with that number.  Dedsec has its feelers everywhere, so we need to make sure the line is secure.  Don’t turn it on until you’re in contact with miss Mao.”

 

Ru accepted the phone and tucked in it her pocket.  “Thank you, sir.  Is that all?”

 

“That is all.”  Greenwood gave her a wave as she turned away and opened the door.  “Good luck, agent Law.”

 

As Ru let the door close behind her, she let her body shiver with the chill those words sent down her spine.  From anyone else, it would have been a sentiment of good will.

 

From Greenwood, it sounded like a threat.

 

She straightened her blazer and cleared her throat, walking down the hall to the safety of her floor and her desk.  She didn’t have time to dwell on Greenwood today.  She had a file to read.

 

~


	21. From the Ashes

Wrench was leaning against his workspace with his arms crossed when the other came back down the stairs.  Marcus was the first to his side, his concern renewed, but he kept his distance in case Wrench reacted like he did before.  “Hey, you good, man?”

 

Wrench snorted.  “Absolutely not.”

 

Marcus winced and leaned against the table with him.  “I get it.  I mean, I don’t get it, obviously, your head’s a mess and I have no idea what it’s like but-”

 

Wrench made first contact, grabbing Marcus’ hood from his back and yanking it over his head.  “If we’re gonna get things back to fucking normal, I’m gonna need you to stop with the eggshell ballet, dude.”

 

Marcus’ laugh betrayed his relief as he tugged his hood back down.  “Yeah that shit’s hard man.  I shoulda stretched.”

 

Sitara descended the last few stairs with Josh in tow.  They all took their seats at the table and allowed a nervous silence to overtake them again.  Wrench fought the shamed hunch in his shoulders, as this awkward moment was his fault.  Not that he hadn’t had a good reason, and everyone understood that, but he still felt like shit.

 

“Do you still think this is a simulation?”  Josh asked, deciding that enough was enough.

 

Wrench’s head lifted, and he gave a sigh.  “…No.”  He paused.  “I mean maybe.”  He gave a frustrated groan and leaned back in his chair.  “Okay _no_ , but it’s not from lack of trying.”

 

Sitara arched a brow at him.  “You _want_ to be in the simulation?”

 

“Do I want to be stuck in a fake world where I might kill my friends?  Hell the fuck no.  But I… I would prefer a world where my friends are willing to die _not_ be the real one if I can help it.”  Wrench admitted, fingernail scratching at a sticker that was already half coming off the table.  “So on the extremely high chance that this _is_ actually happening, I’m not letting any of you assholes do anything without Wrench-flavoured back up.  I’m in.”

 

Sitara beamed at him and stood up to lean across the table and grabbed his face with one hand.  “We’d never want to do it without you anyway.”  She shook his head once and let go.

 

Marcus raised an eyebrow at Ray, with a question of how he’d gotten Wrench so calm in his eyes.  Ray ignored it.  “All right,” He said, rubbing his hands together.  “This is a big job.  Bigger than anything we ever done, so we can’t do this by ourselves.  I know the rest o’ Dedsec is in hidin’.  Anybody got a way to bring ‘em out?”

 

Sitara raised her hand.  “Me.”

 

“Great.  Josh, you’re gonna be with me on all these files.  I haven’t been able to search ‘em, but I’m sure he’s got this whole plan in here.  Wrench, Marcus, yer on standby until we know more.”

 

Marcus saluted.  “I’ma see if I can hit up Lenni and throw them an update.”

 

Wrench and Ray both spun to face Marcus.  Wrench’s mask betrayed his shock.  “Whoa, stop the fucking van, I want off.  _Lenni?_   As in ‘I’m gonna blow your ass to shit because you’re better than me’ Lenni?  I know we’ve got friends in low places, but I didn’t think we were going _that_ low.”

 

Josh gave a small nervous grumble, and Sitara snickered.  “Yeah, that’s a long fucking story I don’t want to get into,” she mused.

 

Wrench tilted his head.  “I thought she was in jail?”

 

Josh groaned again.  “Not anymore.”

 

Wrench planted his hands on the table in indignation.  “She got out of jail?”

 

Sitara pursed his lips together, and Marcus gripped his temples.  “Well we couldn’t just leave here there to get shot in her cell.”

 

“You _broke her out_ of jail!?”  Wrench dropped his head to the table and covered his head with his arms.  “Fucking Christ, now I know this isn’t a dream.  There is no way my dream Marcus would side with fucking Lenni of all people.”

 

“Is dream me at least hot?”

 

Wrench glared from under his arm.  “Scorching, but I fail to see how that’s relevant.”

 

Marcus laughed.

 

Sitara sighed.  “A lot’s happened since you’ve been gone, Wrench.  This is gonna suck to hear, but I don’t think we would have gotten to you without Lenni’s help.”

 

“For fuck’s sake tell me we don’t owe that witch any favours,” Wrench pleaded.

 

“We don’t owe that witch any favours,” Sitara promised.  “We saved her from the CIA hit crew, _and_ we broke her out of prison, _and_ we saved her old ex-Prime_Eight friend.  We’d better be in a truce for the foreseeable future.”

 

Ray shook his head.  “Hell, she owes _us_ a favour at this point.”

 

Wrench’s mask turned questioning.  “Ex-Prime_Eight friend?”

 

“Katchadourian,” Marcus said.

 

Wrench grew appalled again.  “ _Suzanne!?_   Suzanne was Prime_Eight!?”

 

“I told you this was a long story, Wrench.”  Sitara laughed as Wrench grew miserable.

 

“How far does this rabbit hole go!?  I feel so betrayed.  I have been lied to, I have been _cheated_ -” He drew in a fake, shuddery breath and turned to Josh.  “Josh, quick, tell me you’re not suddenly in Prime_Eight too.”

 

Josh’s eye barely twitched.  “God no.”

 

“Thank _fuck_.”

 

Wrench’s playful woes brought a light-hearted air to the table.  Even as silence settled over them again as the laughter quieted, the light remained.  They had all missed this.  For the first time since Wrench left HQ, it finally felt like home.

 

Marcus clapped his hands together and stood first.  “Right, we got our missions.  Let’s get to it.”

 

Sitara grinned and rolled up her sleeves, walking away from the table to her station to start collecting her art supplies.  Josh went to his laptop and moved it closer to where Ray was situated, and Ray began reopening the files on his own computer.  The screens on the wall reconfigured with their updated points of interest, and Greenwood was once again planted right in the middle.  Marcus stood, but didn’t move too far from Wrench as he tugged on his sleeve.  “Come on.  You need air.”

 

Wrench considered his options.  As much as the outside was dangerous as fuck right now, he wasn’t about to watch Marcus leave alone again.  He nodded and stood after him.

 

Sitara lifted a toolbox to her side and glanced at Wrench and Marcus.  “You boys heading outside too?”

 

Marcus nodded.  “Not far though.  You headed out?”

 

Sitara nodded.  “Also not far.  Everybody stay on the line, okay?  I want five minute check-ins from each of you.”

 

Ray waved her off.  “‘Ey, you’re the one leavin’!”

 

Sitara stuck out her tongue and ascended the stairs.  As Marcus tucked his laptop into his bag, he led the way after her with Wrench just behind him.  Before the reached the door, he turned back to Wrench.  “Uh, mask?”

 

Wrench whined.  “God, I can’t wait for this to be over just so I don’t have to keep taking it off.”  He slowly removed the mask and stuffed it in the large pocket of his still borrowed hoodie.  He gaze remained low.  “If I die, make sure they bury my ass in that mask.  If the coroner so much as peeks at my ugly mug, I will haunt you forever.”

 

“Hey, I know we just took an oath or whatever, but that doesn’t mean I’m about to let any of you die.  The only way you’re seein’ a coroner is if you date one.”  He keyed in the code and let the door slide open.  He moved behind Wrench and ushered him out with one hand on the small of his back.

 

No more eggshells, but boy was Marcus remembering Wrench’s new quirks.  Wrench feet fought the move, but only just, and once they were outside, his nerves were only a dull hum.  He turned and gave Marcus a tiny smirk.  “I didn’t know you’d planned a career change.”

 

Marcus grinned in return.  “God _damn_ it’s good to have you back.”

 

As they walked out to procure a vehicle, Wrench tried not to feel the ounce of sadness that came with Marcus’ response.  The flirting wasn’t real, and he knew it.  But somehow it was a firm reminder than this was his real Marcus.  He climbed into the passenger seat of their newly nicked car and shut the door, taking a deep, steadying breath before Marcus sat beside him and started it up.

 

“You good?”  Marcus asked.  He must have seen the gloom in Wrench’s eyes.

 

Wrench forced the happy back.  “Peachy.”

 

~

 

Their destination was a rooftop.

 

From the safety of their parked car, Marcus brought them down a lift from a stationary crane.  They’d hopped out of the car and on board the moment they knew they were clear, and up they went.

 

As they grew closer to the night sky, Wrench pulled his mask free of his pocket and covered his face again.  Marcus didn’t need to keep seeing the nuances of Wrench’s emotions if he could help it, and up here, where nobody else was, they were safe.

 

They stepped off the crane onto a ten-storey building, and Marcus leaned on the railing around the roof.  He pulled out his phone and sent off a text before tucking it away.

 

Wrench leaned his back on the wall.  “Lenni?”

 

“Yeah.  Dunno how long that bus ride’s gonna be for Suzanne, so I figured I’d give her a head’s up.  About Suzanne _and_ you.”

 

Wrench sighed up at the night sky.  “Great.  Not out of hell two days, and I have to deal with _Lenni_ knowing I’m alive.”

 

Marcus snickered at him.  “It ain’t all bad.  I mean it, Lenni helped.”  He watched the cars on the distant streets decorate the road with lights that reflected off his glasses.  “We were able to use her information to track the equipment Suzanne needed to build her machine again.  Apparently the suit thought those purchases were innocuous enough that they didn’t need hidin’.”  He rang his hands together as they laced over the great drop below.  “Another in his long-ass line of mistakes.”

 

Wrench tilted his head sideways and watched Marcus’ face.  “Thing about CIA guys.  Once they know they’ve made a mistake, they’ll never make that same one again.”  He turned around and took his turn to stare at the roads, empty of all but the nightlife crowd.  “Greenwood is…  I guess ‘methodical’ would be a word.  Calculating.  Reptilian.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him blink.”

 

“Reptiles can blink, and I think you’ve offended them, comparing them to that asshole.”

 

Wrench hissed.  “Shit, you’re right.  Think I oughta hit the nearest pet shop and apologise?”

 

“I dunno man, you’re gonna have to walk by that window full of puppies,” Marcus warned.

 

Wrench gripped the sides of his head in fake frustration. “God, I can’t _win_ today!”

 

Marcus let out a laugh, turning away to look back at the city.  In the distance, the still-darkened hospital stood as a dark reminder, not just to them, but to everyone in the city.  Marcus’ face lost its smile.  “…I hope we can do this, Wrench,” he barely whispered.  “I’m not ready to lose anybody else, but I’m not ready to just sit back and let some other corrupt douchebag fuck with people.”

 

Wrench watched him speak and turned his gaze to the ground.  “I’m not either.”  He leaned his elbows on the rail and crossed his arms.  “I don’t think I ever was.  That’s why I went to that military base in the first place.  I thought maybe I could catch the people who pulled that shit and drag them.  Or at least get you information if I couldn’t get out…”

 

Marcus gave a soft scoff.  “‘Needs of the many’…”

 

Wrench hummed in affirmation.  “Earlier tonight was me panicking.  Back peddling.  I dunno…  I just had to… to watch them die over and over again.  Now there’s a chance that it’s all gonna happen for real, and Suzanne can’t just push a few buttons and undo it all this time.  I freaked out.”

 

Marcus didn’t say anything immediately.  Instead, he stood closer to Wrench and threw an arm around his shoulders.  “And we get it.  We’re all freakin’ out too, we just gotta keep it together because of this bullshit.  You’ve been outta that place for two days; nobody expects you to be okay.  Nobody expects you to jump right back out in front of the firing squad either.”

 

Wrench fought the urge to turn into Marcus’ hold and bury his face away in his neck.  He fought another urge to throw his mask off, yank Marcus in by the collar and kiss him.  He quelled both urges by laying his head on his folded arms.  “I can’t just sit at home and do nothing.  Besides, five against the firing squad is better odds than four.”

 

Marcus’ arm tightened.  “Or one.”

 

Wrench nodded against his arms.

 

After a few moments in the embrace, Marcus finally let go (to Wrench’s secret dismay) and tugged his arm.  “Hey, all that aside, I didn’t bring you up here to pick apart your head.  C’mere.”  He led him across the roof.

 

Wrench followed his pace so Marcus wouldn’t feel like he was forcing him.  “What are we here for then?”

 

Marcus reached the opposite rail first and looked out at another part of the city.  He surveyed the skyline before grinning.  “That’s what I thought.”  He gestured outward.  “I had a feeling that’s what she was doin’.”

 

Wrench stared intensely in the direction Marcus was pointing, and at first he didn’t notice what Marcus was talking about.  Then he spotted it.  His chest caught in a bear trap so suddenly that it punched the air out of him in a sob.  He covered the mouth area of his mask as if to shove the sob back in.

 

Marcus stayed close as Wrench threw a shaky hand up subconsciously to grab his arm and anchor himself.  He smiled.  “Sitara never told anybody she did it, but we always knew it was her.  She made you a tribute and never let the city paint over it for long.  It blew up on the Scout app and hasn’t lost steam yet, so I guess this is the best way she can tell everybody that shit’s goin’ down without risking them.”

 

The billboard in the distance glowed under its spotlights, illuminating that large wrench decal that Sitara had apparently repainted several times over the course of the month.  Whatever ad the billboard held before was so obscured, it wasn’t recognisable.  Below the old wrench was the tiny figure of Sitara finishing off a single word, and the message was finished.

 

**WRENCH LIVES**

 

~

 

Wrench had given Sitara the biggest, spikiest hug when they got back, but nothing was said beyond it.  Josh subtly showed off his newly nicked facial recognition program that he’d coveted from Greenwood’s computer.  He set it up to search for a face they’d found in Greenwood's plans— Ru Law, a woman pictured in a suit who was possibly another agent.  Whatever they got from his notes, she had something to do with this plan, so they had to find her.

 

As nothing came of the search immediately, they decided to keep it running through the night, hoping to find her by morning.  With this new level detection, they’d know where she was in seconds.  They could afford to sleep.

 

Wrench was grateful for it.  He flopped back onto the couch where he’d first woken up back home and curled himself up in the blanket he’d been given.  He wasn’t ever going to feel that cold again if he could help it.

 

He grew warmer as Marcus threw a pillow on the floor in front of his couch and laid down.  He brought a thin, scratchy blanket Wrench didn’t know they had with him and gave Wrench a smile before he laid back and took his glasses off.  He’d brought his hand up to tap his knuckle on the visor of Wrench’s mask.  “Don’t go nowhere while I’m out, got it?”  He had said.

 

Wrench’s blush remained hidden behind the leather, but he rolled over in case his feelings reached the visor.  “Yeah, yeah,” He had promised.

 

And even though his troubled mind woke him a good two hours before anybody else, Wrench didn’t move.  He stayed on the couch and stared at the wall for a while before dipping his gaze to Marcus sleeping face, wondering how much sleep Marcus had gotten the last month and if it had been enough.  He wondered if Marcus lost sleep over him, but he didn’t wonder long; He knew he had.  If the loss of Wrench was anything like the loss of Horatio, Marcus hadn’t had enough time to get to the stage where he could sleep again.  Wrench remembered how often he’d be up tinkering until the wee hours, and Marcus would be up with him, and then he’d find him still awake when he inevitably woke up from where he’d landed at the table.

 

Watching him sleep now brought Wrench some peace.  For now, in these last moments before shit was going to hit the fan, Marcus could sleep for as long as he needed to.  Even the noises of one of the others going about a morning routine didn’t seem to disturb him.  Wrench smiled behind his mask and gave a contented sigh.

 

Slowly Ray and his bowl of cereal crossed into his view.  He munched away and arched a brow at Wrench, lifting the spoon to gesture to his eyes.  “Yer boner’s showin’.”

 

The hearts in Wrench’s mask were replaced with exclamation points, and he sat up and chucked his tiny pillow at Ray’s head.  “Sh-Shut it, Ray!”  He hissed.

 

Ray let the pillow connect and snickered as he wandered away.  The pillow landed by Marcus’ feet, and he stirred.  “Mmph… Wrench…?  Mm’time s’it?”

 

Wrench winced and held his hands up.  “Shit, M.  Go back to sleep, it’s too early.”

 

Marcus groaned and shoved the heels of his hands into his eyes.  “Mmnah.  Nah, I need to be up.”  He pushed himself to sit up and stretch.

 

Wrench sighed, but took a moment to watch Marcus’ muscles tense and relax.  He supposed there was one plus to Marcus’ early rousing.  “Do you ever sleep in?  And I mean reeeaaally sleep in, and not because you were drunk.”  He sat up himself and pointed at him.  “And I don’t mean ‘Oh, I slept in until nine’, because that’s not sleeping in.  That is sleeping in for beginners.  I’m talking fucking noon.”

 

Marcus laughed as he threw the scratchy blanket aside.  “Nah, I don’t think I’ve been able to be that lazy in ages.  Tell you what, after all this shit is over, I’m absolutely gonna give it a god damn shot.”

 

Wrench rolled onto his stomach and tucked his fists under his chin, kicking his feet.  “Ooh, can we cuddle?”

 

Marcus’ laugh was embarrassed, but he grinned at him anyway.  “Well we gotta make up for lost time somehow.”

 

As Marcus walked out of view, Wrench buried his face in the cushion and gave a frustrated groan.

 

A small beeping broke everybody from their routines, and Josh, who’d still been sleeping with his head in Sitara’s lap, sat up with a bleary, confused look.  His eyes focused on his laptop, and the look grew serious.  “She’s on the move.”  He stood and rushed to his station and began bringing up the feeds.

 

Wrench tumbled off of the couch and made his way over.  “Why do I feel like you’ve been waiting your entire life to say that?”

 

Josh didn’t lift his eyes from the screen.  “Why would I have been waiting my whole life?  We’ve only known about agent Law for a day.”

 

Wrench snickered.  God he missed Josh.

 

Marcus patted Josh’s shoulder.  “Don’t worry about it.  Where is she?”

 

Josh brought up the feed in collaboration with a map of the city.  “Traffic light cameras have her leaving a residential area.  She may be going to work.”  He turned his eyes to the surface of the table.  “Do we have a plan?”

 

Ray hummed around a bite of cereal.  “The princess’ plane lands tomorrow.  If this agent is in play with Greenwood’s plan, we could probably buy ourselves time by takin’ her out early.”

 

Sitara tapped the screen.  “We should track her routine.  See if there’s somewhere we can stop her before she gets to the airport.”

 

Ray gestured with his spoon.  “Can’t send just one person to interrogate her though.  She is CIA; we’ll have to come up with one helluva defence to get her pinned.”

 

Marcus looked concerned.  “Or…”  He paused.

 

Everyone turned to him.  Sitara waved him on.  “Or?”

 

Marcus watched agent Law’s morning unfolding through the cameras; She was parking in a garage near the middle of the city.  She got out of her car, and going by her outfit, she seemed to be going to the gym.  Marcus continued.  “We know the suit is dirtier than Wrench’s mouth-”

 

“Bullshit,” Wrench added.

 

“-but why are we runnin’ into this like we have proof that she’s dirty too?”

 

A silence fell over them.  Ray spoke up first.  “Sounds like you’re about to suggest a risky play.”

 

Marcus nodded.  “I am.”  He leaned against the table.  “Double agents are rare as fuck in the CIA.  That’s the logical conclusion, right Josh?”

 

“Given the various mental and physical tests an agent is subject to before they’re even considered, not to mention the background checks that go back further than an agent is born, no.  It’s not high,” Josh answered.

 

“And this is just a small faction in San Fran,” Marcus held up his hands.  “The odds of there being two dirty agents in the same city are small as fuck.  She’s likely being used.”

 

Ray thumbed at his computer.  “The file we got on her is redacted.  If you gimme the day, I can find out for sure.”

 

Marcus sighed and shook his head.  “We don’t have the day, Ray.  After today, she’s by the mark, and then we’re playin’ by ear.”  He tapped his foot and pulled his phone out of his pocket.  “I think with the circumstances, we gotta risk that she don’t have a damn clue what Greenwood’s plan is.  If we play our cards right, we might get another ally on the inside.  Somebody in the perfect position to keep Liling Mao safe.”

 

Wrench bit his lip.  “And if she’s dirty too?”

 

Marcus turned to him carefully, watching the mask as it neglected to emote.  They held each other’s gaze for a bit too long before Marcus ducked his face, as if he was ashamed of his suggestion.  “Then I guess I get shot, and you guys are on your own.”

 

Wrench felt his chest fill with determination.  “Uh, _you_ get shot?  Whoa, since when did I become the one who listened to Ray?  You’re not going alone.”  He moved to Marcus’ side and punched his shoulder; it was weaker than normal.  “We’ll go together and ask nicely.  I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

 

Sitara smiled at them and rolled her eyes, walking over to a table and picking up the bike helmet she still had.  “Protect your identities.  Make damn sure she can’t take either of you out.  Abort if you think things are going south at _all_.”  She shoved the helmet into Marcus’ hands.

 

Josh stood up and walked to another side of the hackerspace.  “For an added precaution, you should take a burner with you.”  He lifted a milk crate from the locker area and brought it to his station, setting it down.  “Maybe two.  Or three.  Just in case.”

 

Wrench stared at the crate.  It was half full of the most generic pay-as-you-go phone he’d ever seen.  “Damn, when did we buy out the nearest corner store?”

 

Sitara shrugged.  “We’ve had an alarming amount of people need fake IDs and new, untraceable phones lately.  I guess it serves to be prepared.”

 

“If you think you’re being hacked, block it, shut off your phones, and use those until you get home.”  Josh lifted a phone and held it out to Marcus.  He took it, and Josh picked up two more to hand to him as well.  Marcus also took them.

 

As Josh took to handing a few more to Wrench, Ray set his cereal bowl down.  “I’m gonna start a backup of the files we did get from the suit’s computer.”  He sat down and stretched out his back before setting to work.  “Even if that agent ain’t dirty, there’s no tellin’ how much longer I’m gonna be in this system unnoticed.”

 

Wrench stuffed his new phones into his pockets and turned to Marcus.  “You ready to go threaten a government agent?”

 

Marcus snickered at him and held the helmet Sitara had given him on his hip.  “You say they like it’s not already somethin’ we’re used to.”

 

Wrench shrugged and made his way to the lockers to shuffle off his studded vest.  “I’d say it’s different being that it’s the CIA, but how prepared can you really be in yoga pants?”

 

Marcus laughed and pulled a plain, black hoodie out of a locker, setting down the helmet so he could push his arms through.  “I dunno, how prepared were you for shit to go down in a padded vest and a thong?”  Once the hoodie was over his head and situated, he pulled the hood up.

 

Wrench finished tugging off his own shirt and hissed.  “Shit, you’re right, she could totally have like three or four explosives on her.”  He found a long sleeve, black shirt and pulled it over his head.

 

Marcus balked at him.  “Where in the _hell_ were you keeping explosives in that thing!?”

 

Wrench pulled his head through, his hair aloft from the static, and the sass lit his mask.  “If we live through this, I might just show you.”

 

Marcus smirked.  Then, slowly so Wrench could pull away if he wanted to, he lifted his hands to the mask.  Wrench flinched, but he forced himself still as Marcus pulled the mask away and set it aside on the couch.  He didn’t leave Wrench exposed for long, lifting the helmet back up and pushing it carefully onto Wrench’s head.  “I’ll hold you to that.”

 

Marcus patted the side of the helmet and made for the stairs, out of view, and Wrench gave a dramatic swoon and braced himself against the lockers.

 

Sitara forced herself to stifle a cackle, sneaking up to Wrench’s side and bumping her hip into his.  “Don’t trip over your tongue on the way out.”

 

Wrench grabbed at her sweater.  “If this mission doesn’t kill me, _Marcus fucking will_.”

 

Sitara tugged his head down by the helmet and pressed a kiss to the top of it.  “Don’t worry, Wrench.  When this is over, that tree is still in prime position to be climbed.”  Her face kept its smile, but it grew bittersweet.  “But maybe… just in case, you should talk to him soon.”

 

Wrench stared at her for a few uncertain seconds before turning his gaze to the floor.  “…I’ll think about it.”

 

Sitara watched as Wrench climbed the stairs after Marcus with that same smile in place.  She made her way to her corner as she thought about trying to force Wrench to talk to Marcus, but she knew on some level why Wrench was hesitant.  It was difficult to try and start something when there was no promise there would be many tomorrows to enjoy it.  Besides, she wouldn’t be able to do that in good conscience if she wasn’t ready to follow her own advice.

 

Instead of dwelling on the questions in her head, she perused the scout app and the exorbitant numbers of selfies taken by her improved billboard.  The numbers were growing in the higher hundreds already.  She peeked at the activity across Dedsec servers and found that number climbing even higher.  As scary as this fight was, they were making progress.  Once they had a full plan, they could do this.  They could win.

 

Sitara was going to make sure that they all lived if it was the last thing she did.

 

~


	22. Alliance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slides in ten minutes before Sunday, late with Starbucks*
> 
> MADE IT

Ru shouldered her duffel bag as she walked from her gym back to her car. She had parked on the third floor since most of the spaces below were taken by those who lived in the nearby residential building. She didn’t mind; she enjoyed the extra walk.

While the garage was full of cars, it was devoid of people this early in the morning, and Ru appreciated the silence. It helped her meditate in way, and kept her mind from wandering. She liked her peace. Chaos was the name of the game at work, and she didn’t like it anywhere else.

She approached her car and unlocked the door with the key fob, rummaging through her purse for something before reaching down to tug the door open. It didn’t budge. She peered inside and found the lock down again and sighed. She must have tapped the lock button by mistake. She unlocked it with the fob again and reached down.

She watched the lock shut on its own, and she froze. The sound of movement caught her ear and drew her attention across the lot.

A man in black stood there in a face shield and sunglasses, phone in hand. “Don’t panic. I just wanna talk.”

Ru kept her gaze locked on him. She didn’t show any fear to the unarmed man, but she wasn’t about to underestimate whoever it was. “I’d be much more willing to speak to a face.” She hovered her hand over her concealed weapon, tucked away at her side. Her arm was still hidden from the man; all she would need was one shot.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A new voice sang from ahead of her. She nearly flinched, but hid her shock, turning slowly to the other man.

He wore a motorcycle helmet and was also dressed in black. He was seated in the bed of a large truck, arms crossed and leaning on the wall of it. He gestured downward. “I’d take a look at your feet before you make any rash decisions.”

Ru did as instructed and found with a silent curse that there was a device only inches from her feet. She had missed it.

She looked back up in time to see the helmeted man shrug. “Just sayin’.” He stood from the back of the truck and hopped out.

Ru looked back at her first assailant, and he held up his phone. “This is a dead man’s switch. You shoot either of us, and I let it go.”

“Oh yes, this certainly sounds like the behavior of a man who just wants to talk,” She mocked.

The man in the sunglasses shrugged. “Hey, I’m just covering my bases. You _are_ CIA.”

Ru’s eyes narrowed. “How did-” Realisation washed across her face. “You’re hackers. You’re Dedsec.”

Helmet whistle behind his visor. “Ding ding ding! We have a winner!” He clapped his hands as he strode to the other man’s side.

Sunglasses elbowed him in the ribs. “Easy man, we need her to trust us.”

Ru couldn’t stop the disbelieving bark of laughter that escaped her throat. “‘Trust’,” She repeated with an incredulous and tense smile. “Well you have my attention. You’d better do something with it.”

Sunglasses turned back to her and gave a nod. “Fair enough.” He took a breath. “Greenwood is dirty.”

Of everything Ru was expecting him to say, that wasn’t it. She kept the shock from her face and kept her shoulders square. These were the subjects of Greenwood’s case; they couldn’t be trusted. “I hope you have something better than your word.”

“We do.” Helmet tilted his head. “But we’re not gonna just give it to you.”

Ru shook her head. “You’re doing a great job earning my trust here.”

Sunglasses sighed. “What he means is that we need to know we can trust you before we show you anything.”

Ru’s face grew serious. “Trust _me?_ I’m not the one with the explosive and history of blowing up hospitals.”

Helmet’s arms tensed at his sides. “That wasn’t _us_. Greenwood is trying to pin that on us so we look like the guilty party when shit goes down. We know what his plan is, and we know that you’re involved. It’s how involved we need to know.”

Ru could only stare. “What the hell are you talking about? I have nothing to do with Greenwood’s case!”

“Then why is your name all over the file of his target?” Asked Sunglasses. “What’s your job when it comes to Chinese Prime Minister’s Daughter?”

A wave of cold washed over Ru. How did they know about Liling? The only ones with that information were her and Greenwood to her knowledge. Had they hacked into the system? “If you know so much about the ‘plan’, why don’t you already know my purpose?”

Helmet remained silent. He turned to Sunglasses for a moment before taking two steps closer to Ru and pulling his helmet completely off. Ru went rigid and dropped her gaze quickly. She knew where this was going. If he was revealing his face, she wasn’t going to live.

“Look at me.” He said, unmuffled.

The other man tried to pull him back with his free hand. “Hey, put your damn helmet back on-”

“No! I want her to look at me!”

Ru closed her eyes and sighed. He’d apparently already decided that she was going to die. She lifted her head and opened her eyes.

The first thing she noticed about him, easily, was the birthmark above his eye. It was a deep red and starkly contrasted his pale skin and his icy grey eyes. Second, she noticed that those eyes were _sad_. There something so lost about them that she had to fight the urge to feel bad for him. This man was about to kill her after all.

The third thing she noticed was that this was the man from the news broadcast about the members of Dedsec that the authorities were most interested in questioning. It followed that the man with him was likely Marcus Holloway— another person of interest. This man’s unmasking led her to both men’s identities in seconds.

“Do you recognise me?” The pale man asked.

Ru huffed. “You’re all over the news, it’s hard not to.”

“From anywhere else?”

That question threw her off. Ru narrowed her eyes at him. “Should I?”

The pale man searched her face. He must have been searching for a lie, and his gaze hung in her eyes for a good minute. Ru, in turn, did the same. She searched for malice, and she searched for the evil that had to exist in someone for them to attack a hospital and kill nearly a hundred people. She found none of it.

Instead, she realised in her search that she was looking for all the things that she found in the face of Harold Greenwood.

The blond man gave up, and his face looked… relieved? He walked back towards his partner and pulled the helmet back on. “She’s not in on his plan. She doesn’t know anything.”

Ru stared at them. “You two need to start talking. _Now._ ”

Sunglasses— Marcus, she reminded herself— sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose. “Greenwood is trying to start a war with China. He’s gonna use that little girl to do it, but he’s gonna lay all the blame on Dedsec. We’re trying to stop that from happening. I can send you the proof we have, but it’s not gonna be enough to bring him down in time. That’s why we need someone on the inside.”

“War. You think agent Greenwood is trying to start a war.” Ru gave another stunted laugh. “I can’t believe you actually think I’m going to buy this.”

Helmet seemed to grow angry again. “I can’t believe you _don’t!_ ” He paced around Marcus. “You can’t tell me that you don’t think there’s anything wrong with that guy! You don’t think there’s anything behind that Stepford wife bullshit face he’s putting on!?”

Ru flinched. She didn’t answer.

Because she _did._

Helmet nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

Ru closed her eyes. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t take some hacker’s words at face value, and she wouldn’t be made a mole. “So you want me to turn on everything I’ve sworn an oath not to do. You want me to go against my government on little more than your word, because your story plays into my reservations about my boss.”

“It’s not some story. We ain’t playin’,” Marcus promised. “And we’ll get you proof. We’re not asking you to do any of those things, we just want your help.”

Ru could hear sincerity in the man’s voice. She remembered the sad look in Helmet’s eyes, but she had to ignore those things. She couldn’t risk that these people were trying to use her. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

She drew her concealed weapon, aimed at Marcus, and fired before either of them could move.

~

“Marcus!” Wrench dove after Marcus as the man tumbled back into the cement wall. His phone had dropped to the ground, and the electroshock device they had passed off as a bomb did its work and knocked out Agent Law without any fanfare. She was never in any danger.

Marcus was the one in peril now. Wrench panicked as he tried to find the damage. “Where were you hit!? Marcus, where!?”

Marcus shouldered him away. “Easy, easy! She just grazed me! Fucking-” He moved his hand from where it was clamped over his arm. “Burns like a mother f-” He hissed and pressed his hand back over the wound. “Damn that hurt!”

Wrench tried to pull his hand off of it. “How bad is it. Lemme see, how bad is-”

Marcus pulled away. “No. No, get checking her car like we fucking planned. I’ll be fine.” He started kicking himself up against the wall to stand up again.

Wrench huffed and helped him the rest of the way up. “Marcus-”

“Wrench! Preventing a war is more important than me! Go!”

Wrench went tense. Then he turned and did as he was told.

“ _Tuning into screaming. What the hell happened?_ ” Sitara’s voice bounced over their comms.

Wrench hacked the car door open and parked himself in the driver’s seat. “Marcus jinxed himself earlier and got himself shot.”

Marcus made his way to the car as well. “Excuse me? I didn’t ‘get myself’ nothin’. We had a solid plan here, we just didn’t take into consideration how much this chick would go by the book.”

“ _You okay, Marcus? How bad is it?_ ” Ray asked.

“I am fine. She grazed me, it wasn’t meant to be a kill shot.”

“ _We’re still gonna look at it when you get home,_ ” Sitara insisted. “ _God, we can’t send you assholes anywhere!_ ”

Marcus didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned against an adjacent car and slid down to sit. He looked down at the unconscious agent and studied her face for lack of a better place to stare. Why hadn’t she gone for the kill? It seemed like agent Law was more willing to die for her job than cooperate with the enemy, which he was sure was something they were trained for. She thought the device was a bomb. She was expecting to die. Why didn’t she take the chance to take out one of the supposed bad guys if she thought she was going down anyway?

“Marcus!” Wrench’s voice cut through the fog, toned as if he’d said his name more than once.

Marcus looked up. “What?”

“Can you maybe not black out before we’re home?” Wrench was half out of the car again, as if he was about to hurry to Marcus’ side.

“Sorry, sorry. No I was just thinking.”

Wrench sighed. “Right, well think on this for a minute.” He handed him a burner phone. “Found that in the glove box.”

Marcus lifted his hand, a little pained from the shot but not hindered, and took the phone. “Damn. This is her CIA issued phone? Oh I hope our country’s in better hands than this.”

“Uh, no.” Wrench wiggled a sleek looking smart phone at him. “ _This_ is her CIA issued phone. Being that I just tried to get into it with a hard wire, and it beat my virus to a bloody pulp and told it to call it daddy.” He gestured to the burner now in Marcus’ hand. “No clue what that is though.”

Marcus eyed the phone. “This is super low tech. It’s incredibly generic, too, like I think I got this same burner in my bag; this is some corner store bullshit. The hell she need one of these for?”

“Personal calls maybe?”

Marcus shrugged, and then hissed because of his arm. He tried to ignore the pain and continued. “I dunno, if she needed a personal phone beside her work one, I figure she’d go a little more app heavy. This thing can-” He flipped the phone a few times, “-Make and receive calls. Maybe t9 texts, if it’s lucky.”

Wrench gave an audible wince. “Ugh. T9. Yeah, once you go full keyboard, you never go back.”

He opened the basic flip phone and powered it on. “Well this thing clearly won’t have the same security. Let’s see what she’s got on it.”

“ _Whoa! What did you guys just do?_ ” Sitara asked seconds later.

Marcus set the phone down and froze. “What? What happened?”

“ _We’re getting a signal from a tracking device located at your exact coordinates,_ ” Josh warned. “ _You should leave. Now._ ”

“Fuck!” Wrench punched the steering wheel. The short burst of horn startled them both, and Wrench stood out of the car to reach for Marcus. “Come on. We’re getting out of here. We tried, we failed.”

Marcus leaned away. “Wait, _wait._ ”

“ _Marcus, you get your ass out of there,_ ” Sitara said.

“I said wait!” Marcus fumbled with the phone, trying to get to the battery with one hand. “Damn- Wrench help me with this.”

Sitara tried again. “ _Wrench, get him out of there!_ ”

Wrench clenched his hands into fists. He didn’t want to keep them there any longer, but Marcus seemed to have caught on to something. He sat on his knees in front of Marcus and took the phone. “What are you thinking, M?” He asked, finding the latch and peeling the back covering from the phone. He handed it back to him.

Marcus took the phone and pulled out the battery as Ray’s voice sounded in their ears. “ _Kid, I don’t wanna rush ya, but you been shot, and they’re tracking ya now; you need to get out._ ”

“They’re not tracking us.” Marcus held up the phone. Inside the case, under where the battery had been, there was a chip, wired into the phone itself. “They’re tracking her.”

Wrench took the phone from Marcus and inspected the chip. “It’s bugged.” He turned it a few times in his hands. “How do you figure this is for her and not a trap for us to find?”

Marcus shook his head. “There’s no way they were expecting us to find this connection. They don’t even know we’re in the system. We surprised this agent, she wasn’t ready for us. We still have a leg up.”

“ _Not for long after this..._ ” Josh was heard mumbling.

Wrench sighed. “He’s right. Law’s gonna wake up, be all ‘by the book’ again and tell the boss, and the suit’s gonna know we’ve been in his cookie jar.” He handed the phone back to Marcus. “Do you have a plan?”

Marcus looked at the phone for a while. He put the battery back and replaced the cover, and easier task than getting it open, and turned it back on. “Yeah. I got one.”

~

When they arrived back down into HQ, Wrench made Marcus march down the stairs first. Marcus had long since removed his hand from his wounded arm, which had stopped bleeding for the most part, but the gash still looked pretty nasty. “It’s not even that bad anymore, Wrench.”

“I don’t give two shits how bad you think it is, shirt, off, now.” Wrench started tugging at the hem of Marcus’ shirt.

Marcus tugged away, but he nearly crashed into Sitara, who took his good arm and tugged him to the couch, where Ray was already preparing a first aid kit. “Graze or not, it’s gonna get infected,” She said. “What the hell happened in there?”

Marcus allowed himself to be moved. “Agent Law didn’t bite. She shot me to set off our trap because she thought she’d be dying for her country.” He grunted as Sitara pushed him down in the seat. “But I got a clone of her burner phone. If it’s got something to do with his plan, we’ll know every correspondence they make.”

Sitara forced a smile. “And we’ll talk more about that when we don’t have to worry about your arm going septic. Shirt off. Now.”

Marcus sighed and pulled the shirt up over his head. When he got to his arm, he carefully peeled it away from the wound with a hiss. “Ssshit...”

Wrench crossed his arms. “Not that bad, huh?” He tugged the helmet off and hurried to retrieve his mask. Ray walked away with an empty bucket.

“It’s _not,_ ” Marcus insisted.

Sitara pushed him to sit down anyway. “We’re not just gonna leave it, Marcus. That’s how things get infected, and we can’t go exactly go to a hospital.”

Wrench sat at Marcus’ good side. “Yeah, I don’t think any hospital’s gonna see any of us without at least twenty armed gunmen and a bazooka on standby.”

“We could call a doctor,” Josh offered.

All eyes turned to Josh as Ray returned with the bucket full of soap and water. Wrench yanked out his phone and dialed.

Marcus groaned as Ray sat next to him and rung out a wash cloth in the water. “Man- You really don’t have to call Suzanne, I’m gonna be fine- _Fuck!!_ ” Ray had started cleaning the wound, and Marcus’ cry made them all jump. “Christ, Ray, warn a guy!”

“You’ll get over it,” Ray said, scrubbing away. “And you’ll thank me when you don’t lose your arm.”

Marcus hissed and squeezed his eyes shut as Ray continued. He would be better off, and everyone knew it. Wrench listened idly to the phone ring on the other end, but Marcus leaned over and buried his face in Wrench’s shoulder. Wrench’s mind went blank. His free hand coasted to Marcus’ back and twitched, rubbing between his shoulder blades. Marcus felt small at his side. It was a strange feeling against their usual interactions, where Marcus was always the strong, level-headed one who could cool Wrench off if he got too hot. Now that pillar of strength was tucked into his shoulder in pain, and all Wrench wanted to do was gather him up and never let anything hurt him ever again.

“ _-you don’t say something, I’m hanging up-_ ” A voice hummed in his ear,

“Shit, Suzanne, wait! Sorry, it’s Wrench.” Wrench turned his head away from Marcus, but he didn’t move.

Suzanne sighed over the line. “ _Oh. Hello dear. How are you doing?_ ”

Wrench huffed. “Uh, I’m kinda irrelevant at the moment. Listen, we need your help. Marcus has been shot, and we need your uh... Professional, medical opinion on how to take care of the wound.”

“ _Oh my god. Is he awake, first of all._ ”

“Yes.”

“ _Where is the wound located? Extremity or his torso?_ ”

“It’s his arm. He got grazed pretty bad, but he can still move it a little.”

“ _All right. If it isn’t too deep or damaging, you should just have to clean it and bandage it, but I’ll need to see if he needs stitches first._ ” Wrench felt the blood leave his face as Suzanne spoke. “ _Please put me on speaker and take a photo of the wound._ ”

Wrench pulled the phone away and set Suzanne to speaker as she asked. “Ray, pause a minute.”

Marcus released a breath he was holding when Ray finally stopped and gripped the shirt at Wrench’s back. It was Wrench’s turn to hold his breath. Still, he lifted his phone and took the picture, sending it off to Suzanne.

The doctor hummed audibly. “ _It isn’t life threatening, but you should definitely stitch that up. With that much open wound, it will take a very long time to heal if you don’t, and you’ll have to be extremely thorough with keeping it clean._ ”

Marcus pulled his face from Wrench’s shoulder long enough to speak. “I hope you have some advice on how to do that, because I don’t think anybody here can.”

“ _Wrench can._ ”

Wrench’s breath left him in a horrified bark of a laugh. “No. No, no, hell no I can’t. Absolutely not.” He inched away from Marcus.

Suzanne gave another sigh, but it was gentle. “ _You_ can _do it, Wrench. I’ve seen you do it._ ”

“Um, no. You’ve seen simulation me do shit I’ve seen in action movies, I don’t know how the fuck to do this for real!” Wrench moved further away from Marcus. “And that was on myself! And it was the worst thing I have felt in my life! I’m not doing that to Marcus!”

Sitara hurried to Wrench’s side as Josh walked away from the shouting, catching Wrench’s shoulder. “Calm down, Wrench, we’re gonna get through this.”

“ _What you did was medically sound, Wrench. You know how deep to go, and I can explain anything you’re not sure of. I’ll tell you what you need._ ”

Sitara steadied Wrench as he reached up to grip his head. “Wrench? Wrench, calm down, okay? If you don’t think you can do this, I will try.”

Marcus’ voice broke through the fog, and he carefully caught Wrench’s wrist. “You don’t have to do this, man... But I trust you. You know I do.”

Wrench stared. His mask went blank as it struggled to settle on an emotion, and he dropped his gaze to the ground. “I’m... gonna go wash my hands.” He forced himself to stand and passed the phone to Sitara.

He heard Sitara sigh and ask Suzanne how she was doing, which received a reply that they could have warned her that Sylvia was Lenni. The conversation muffled as he left to find a sink.

Once he was out of everyone’s view, he sank against the wall and sat on the stairs halfway up, squeezing his eyes shut and ripping the mask off to swallow a deep unhindered breath. He followed it with several more and tucked his head between his knees again, like Josh had advised before. His head pounded behind his eyes as he gave no effort to keeping his breathing even. It wouldn’t help to force it. He kept his head there until his breaths came out even. Marcus would be okay. Marcus would be fine. And Wrench was going to make him that way. He just had to calm the hell down and wash his goddamn hands.

He stood up again and left for the sink.

~

When he came back, Marcus was alone on the couch. The various supplies Wrench would need were laid out on a small table someone had dragged over, and the others had sequestered across the room to leave them to it. Wrench’s sleeves were rolled up, and he kept his hands loose. “Just us?” He asked.

“ _And a little birdy,_ ” His phone, also on the table, responded. Suzanne was still on the line.

Wrench nodded and sat beside him, setting his mask off to the side.

“No mask?” Marcus gestured to it.

Wrench shook his head. “No. Not for this. I wanna make sure everything’s as clear as possible.”

Marcus grinned. “Never stopped you before.”

“Before didn’t have the safety of my best friend on the line.” He took another breath, but his hands pulled into fists as he looked at the the supplies.

Marcus reached out and squeezed his knee. “You okay, man?” He asked.

“Can you not ask me that when I’m about to drive a needle into your arm?” Wrench forced himself not to focus on the hand on his knee. It distracted him, but at the same time, he suddenly had an anchor.

“ _Wrench?_ ” Suzanne’s voice reached him again. “ _I know these are just words, but you can calm down. Your friend Ray’s kit had a numbing salve they’ve already applied. It’s not perfect and not nearly as effective as a shot, but it’s going to cut down a good deal of the pain._ ” She paused, and her voice got quiet. “ _It won’t be as bad as you remember. You’re a much clearer head now than you were before, and I’m going to walk you through every step. You’re not alone this time._ ”

Wrench pressed his lips together and breathed in through his nose. He gave the phone a cursory glance and then looked over to Marcus, who looked no worse for the wear. Marcus only smiled and squeezed his knee again. “You got this, man.” He moved his hand away.

Wrench sighed and pointed at his knee. “You’d better put that back.” He pulled on the gloves that were set aside. “This is gonna suck, and you may as well have something you can claw the fuck out of when it gets bad.”

Marcus chuckled and did as he was told. “If you insist. Listen, I don’t want any lip if you bruise, you hear me?”

Wrench snickered to cover a giddy noise that wanted to escape when the warmth returned to his leg. Now was not the time. “Yeah, yeah. Not the preferred mark I’d have you leave on me, but I’ll take it.”

“ _Boys, can we focus please?_ ” Suzanne sounded amused, but serious. “ _Marcus, you need to relax your arm as much as possible. The more you tense, the worse it’ll be. As it stands, the worst of it should be the first puncture only. You just have to power through the rest. Wrench, I had them put the needle in some sterile alcohol already, you’re basically ready to go. I’m going to walk you through an interrupted stitch._ ”

Wrench found the curved needle settled on the paper towel and plucked it between his fingers carefully. “Jeez, did Ray hold up an ambulance for these supplies?” He took another breath and sighed, shaking out his shoulders. “All right. Let’s get this over with.”

The first stitch was hesitant even with Suzanne’s instruction. It pulled a pained and loud grunt from Marcus, and several apologies from Wrench. The stitch was tied off, nerves were steadied, and they started again.

Marcus felt more prepared for the next stitches, able to keep his responses to huffs and his clenching hand.

“ _How is it looking guys? I can’t exactly see from here. Are the knots holding?_ ” Suzanne asked from the table.

Marcus gave a breathy chuckle. “I think Wrench might have a future in this. Not gonna lie.”

It was Wrench’s turn to laugh. “Yeah fucking right. You know my bedside manner would be shit.”

“I mean, you are the fixer.”

“Okay, but not this literally.” Wrench gave him a glance. “That too tight?”

Marcus shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine.”

Wrench smiled. Marcus hand stilled on his knee but didn’t move. “Sweet. Just a few more.” He set to work on the next stitch, and Marcus barely flinched. The only sign he felt it was a short halt in his breath.

“ _Do you think you need me anymore? Or have you got it?_ ” Suzanne asked.

“We’re probably clear, doc. You can bounce,” Marcus said.

Wrench pulled the stitch through and began tying it off. “Yeah, and tell Lenni I said ‘Fuck you’.”

Marcus gave him a pointed look. “And ‘thank you’.”

“Is that not what I said?”

Marcus laughed.

Wrench smirked. He paused and looked at the phone. “Oh, Suzanne? Before you go, I wanted to, uh... I wanted to thank you for everything you did, too. Ya know, getting me out of there and shit. And keeping my head straight through those simulations.”

Suzanne gave a soft gasp. “ _Oh, of course, dear. I’m just sorry I couldn’t do more for you._ ”

“You did plenty,” Wrench insisted. “Without you, I would have led them straight here. And without your codes, we wouldn’t have gotten the leads that we did. We know the suit’s plans now, and we got that because of you.”

Suzanne took a while to respond. At first, Wrench thought she might have been choked up; She seemed the type. Then, she finally spoke. “ _...What codes...?_ ”

Wrench went still, and he and Marcus stared the phone down. This had gotten the attention of the others, who’d begun moving closer now that ease had returned to the room. Sitara got there first. “We got the passwords to Greenwood’s personal files from Wrench’s head,” She said.

Wrench had stopped moving entirely. “Th-... The boy with the bike. And the hotel room. Those numbers were codes. You had to have put them there.”

Suzanne paused again. “ _Honey, I was a prisoner. I wasn’t allowed anywhere near a computer that would let me access anything like that. That room was built like a faraday cage; nothing in, nothing out. Anyone with those codes would have to have been standing over Greenwood’s shoulder to get them._ ”

Josh’s hands balled at his sides. “Then where did the codes come from?”

Suzanne could be heard tapping a nail on the table. “ _Any numbers I included came from the simulation structure notes I was meant to follow._ ”

Marcus sat forward and his hold on Wrench’s knee tightened. “Who gave you the notes?”

“ _...Dusan Nemec._ ”

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously thanks for the patience you guys! I hope you enjoyed the extra long chapter as my apology! I have a new writing laptop now, so there shouldn't be any further delays unless my life gets flipped turned upside.
> 
> See you next Saturday!


	23. Pressure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun dududun dun  
> DUN DUN DUN DUDUDUN DUN

Greenwood’s eyebrow rose as he walked into his office and heard a small beacon beeping from the drawer of his desk. He took a seat beside it and unlocked the drawer, pulling it open and retrieving the device. The burner was on. It had been for about a half hour. Greenwood gave a smirk. “Naughty, naughty, miss Law.” He muted the beacon for the time being and placed it back in his desk, securing it. He’d ask her about it when she arrived.

As he thought about how to interrogate agent Law, the phone at his waist began to ring. It was her. He put on his best pleasant voice and answered. “Good morning, agent Law-”

“ _A-Agent Greenwood, sir._ ” She sounded groggy. “ _Please listen. I was just attacked by Dedsec._ ”

Greenwood’s smile dropped, and a crack formed in his gentle facade. “When?”

“ _This morning. I thought they were going to kill me, but-_ ”

“Did they take anything?” Greenwood asked.

There was a pause, perhaps as agent Law was searching through her things. “ _No. Everything’s where it was._ ”

“What about the phone I gave you?”

“ _...It’s still here, but it’s on._ ” She gave a frustrated huff. “ _Sir, I don’t think the phone is important right now; they know about Liling Mao. She could be in danger. I think we need to alert the Chinese authorities and keep her in China until we can neutralise this threat-_ ”

“No,” Greenwood spat the word. “The trip proceeds as planned. If anything, Dedsec has just shown me their hand. Taking them out will be easier now, and Liling is safer for it. Come in as soon as you can, and bring the phone.”

Agent Law paused again. “ _Shall I turn it off?_ ” She asked.

Greenwood forced his smile back in place. “No, no. Leave it on.” He pulled the beacon back out and set it on his desk. “Report to me as soon as you arrive.” He hung up before agent Law could respond and pulled his hands into fists.

How the hell had they known? Dedsec had never gotten anywhere near his files ; their security system would have lit up like a wildfire if they had tried to hack in. Did they have a source? Not even the good doctor knew of Liling, so it couldn’t have been her, and Dusan was never privy to agent Law’s involvement. Where could their information had been coming from?

On a hunch, he roused his computer and began delving into its inner systems. No security protocols had been activated, but that didn’t mean Dedsec wasn’t in. Revenge was probably top of their to do list now.

He filed through a list of logins from various IPs, ensuring that each one was himself, and he found one outlier. A couple of days prior, their was a login from and IP address in… Manhattan? That couldn’t be right. He pulled the IP up to pull it apart.

It was a false IP. It bounced to Manhattan from another IP in Ontario. From there, he traced to London, and then to Budapest, and then somewhere in Tokyo. He followed the code to Chicago and Houston, and then finally-

Back to Manhattan.

With a mighty roar, he slammed his fists on the desk. They had him stuck in a loop. He’d never be able to break it, and all it would do was waste his time.

With a sigh of resignation, he closed the program and pushed his chair back. He stared at the screen with a building fury. They should not have been allowed to get this close. He gave a soft hum and instead gave a thought to how this had happened. The only way to get into his system without detection was to use his passwords. He was the only one who had those. The only other person who might have stolen a peak at them was-

His face grew stone-like. He allowed his visage to crack another grin, and he opened his system settings. He leaned over to his office phone and pressed a button. “Frank? Could you have agent Harmon wheel Mr. Nemec in please? I would like to have a word with him. Then why don't you take lunch?”

“ _Yes sir._ ”

He could make up for this. Dedsec was growing predictable, and all he had to do was push the right buttons. Dusan would help him do that, whether or not he wanted to. With a few key strokes, his passwords were changed, and all other IPs were logged out. He sat back and awaited his consultant.

~

“We… We just got locked out,” Josh said, seated before Ray’s computer as their connection to the system was cut off. Sitara sighed and dipped her head, and Wrench walked to the table at the centre of the room if only to kick the nearest chair. They had long since let Suzanne go, and the silence that settled over headquarters was uneasy. Ray covered his mouth as he weighed his options.

“So this was a trap then,” He concluded.

Wrench paced around his bench. He’d put his mask back on, and it was settled on fury. “I’m so fucking done with that guy, I swear to god.”

“We can’t trust any of the information we just got,” Sitara took the beaten chair and righted it beside Josh. “All if this is probably full of bullshit to get us looking in the wrong direction.”

“I’m checking it now for any hidden coding or viruses,” Josh said. “Once I’m sure it’s clean, I’ll delete everything.”

“ _Don’t_ -… Don’t do that.” Marcus finally said, a bit louder than he’d meant to, like it was a secret he’d been holding in. All eyes turned to him, and he reached up to massage his temples. This was going to be hard to explain.

Sitara moved to say something, but Wrench spoke first. “M, he’s fucking with us. They both are, they’ve been working together since the beginning. I know my head is fucked right now, but I remember seeing him after I got shot. He was there, he was with Greenwood, he was working with him, and he’s never _not_ been bad news.”

“He let us go, Wrench.” Marcus’ voice rattled everyone into silence again.

Wrench felt something strange boiling in his chest. “The hell do you mean he ‘let us go’?”

“When me and Suzanne were gettin’ you out, he caught me.” Marcus stood up and took a step toward Wrench. “Last second, he was in that damn room with me, and he could have ratted us out, but he didn’t. He told some gun to move on and check somewhere else. Believe me, I hate to be the guy who put that asshole on a pedestal, but he _helped us._ ”

Wrench didn’t budge. “Or it was their plan all along, Marcus! Dusan wouldn’t give two shits about whatever the fuck Greenwood is doing! All he cares about is his fucking company starting up again under a new name, with new lies, and the same, smug face behind the curtain! If he ‘let us go’, he did it for a reason!”

“Come on, Wrench, nobody’s gonna risk letting their leverage just walk out like that!” Marcus walked until he was standing in front of Wrench’s path. “And I know Dusan’s willing to let people die for his shit, but letting hundreds die to a war? Thousands!? That’s some conspiracy shit, and you know it! Even Dusan ain’t that bad!”

Wrench’s fury bloomed, and he shoved Marcus’ shoulders. “Don’t fucking tell me what he’s capable of! I already fucking know! You don’t know what the fuck he did to me! He tortured me!”

Marcus caught Wrench’s shoulders and held him tightly. “He didn’t torture you, Wrench! None of that happened!”

Wrench’s chest felt like it was caving in. “S-Sure! Just because it was all in my head means I didn’t experience it. Just because I’m not covered in the fucking scars means that I don’t know how it feels to get a scalpel driven into my leg, or fingernails ripped off, or cigarettes put out on my _everything!_ ” He yanked away from Marcus. “Everything that happened in that place was real to me, M. Every _fucking_ thing is something that I felt and watched happen, and I am constantly afraid I’m gonna turn around and Josh is gonna be dead, or Sitara, or Ray, and I’m still, still scared as fuck that I’m not the one in control of my own fucking body! Every time I’m alone with anyone, I’m worried I’ll black out and wake up to find I’ve shot them! I haven’t touched a gun since I’ve been back because I don’t trust myself!” He shoved Marcus away again. “Dusan designed the structure of the simulations, Marcus! _Dusan did that to me!_ ” He took a deep, gasping breath to try and alleviate the pain of his ribcage crumbling. “But sure. Yeah. It wasn’t real, so none of that matters, right?”

Marcus stood silent. His gaze found the floor as words failed him. Everyone else remained where they were, not wanting to come between them or keep Wrench from venting.

Eventually Wrench turned away and yanked his mask off, pulling his hood firmly over his head. He grabbed the helmet again and marched for the stairs.

“Where are you going, Wrench?” Sitara asked.

“Out for some fucking air.” His footsteps stomped up the stairs and disappeared outside the door.

Silence settled on everyone again, and Marcus slowly sat back down on the couch. He leaned his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands.

Ray walked to his side and sat down in silence. He leaned back on the couch with an aged groan and stared at the adjacent wall. “How sure are you that Dusan might be on our side?”

Marcus gave a snort. “Now? I’m not.” He lifted his head and looked at Ray. “You were the last person I’d think would come at this with an open mind, not gonna lie.”

Ray shrugged. “At a time like this, when we got as little as we do, we need to keep every avenue in mind. Now I know you saw somethin’ at that compound from Dusan that nobody else did, and you know we trust your judgment. Dusan is a touchy subject for all of us.”

Sitara took the spot at Marcus’ other side, pulling her feet up and leaning her arm over the back of the couch. “Tell us what you saw. Tell us what he did, we’ll get a hold of Suzanne again, and we’ll see if we can hash out what to do next.”

Josh glanced back over his shoulder. “So… I’m not checking and deleting the files yet?”

“You can scrub ‘em,” Ray said, “But leave ‘em on my machine.” He turned back to Marcus and gave him his full attention. “What’re we missin’, Marcus?”

Marcus sighed. He took a deep breath, leaned back, and he spoke.

~

Dusan had settled into unease long before Greenwood had shot him in the leg. He’d liked to have said that everything was going to plan, but that plan had derailed almost as soon as they began sending Wrench through simulations. It was clear his goal of revitalising Blume was never in Greenwood’s plans. Wrench was being used, Suzanne was being used, and so was Dusan. He didn’t appreciate being a means to an end, and his subtle rebellions were enough proof of that.

Letting Marcus and the others go was the last rebellious act he’d committed, certainly, but it was far from the first. Being that he was charged with keeping an eye on Suzanne, he played the fool plenty of times in the later stages. He’d started noticing when Suzanne was sneaking in messages to Wrench, subtle as they were. He noticed her dropping hints of what she knew into the machine so that it would be in Wrench’s head, but she’d never be aware. By the time he actually noticed, he was already hoping Wrench would beat the odds. So he kept allowing it.

Perhaps on some level, he assumed that Wrench would never escape. Wrench would be dead before he left that room, so it didn’t matter what he knew. Perhaps that was what he told himself to justify letting it happen. Then, as the simulations grew in number, his own notes began to betray him. His own hand penned numbers he knew would stand out in Wrench’s head, with the hope he’d get out one day and be able to use them.

He had no idea if the work was paying off, but he didn’t care to. Greenwood was already upset with them for letting Dedsec escape as it was. He didn’t want to think about how soon it would all be over if he knew what he’d done.

Not like it mattered. Suzanne had been right; Greenwood likely was never going to let him live anyway.

His reverie of staring out a window that could ever open was interrupted by the locked door of the quarters being opened. “Mr. Nemec? Agent Greenwood wants to see you. There’s been an update in the Dedsec case,” Said the man at the door. He wasn’t a man Dusan was familiar with. Usually, he’d send Frank.

“Well, take me away then.” He unlocked the wheels of the chair he’d been given and rolled it toward the man. “I’m certainly not walking there by myself.”

The man came behind him and rolled him out of the room, letting the door swing shut behind them.

Dusan glanced back to the room. “Uh, do you mind locking my door?”

The man remained silent and kept walking them straight to the elevator.

“Or not, yeah. I’m sure it’ll do that by itself.”

The trip down took them past six floors, which landed them on the floor of Greenwood’s secondary office. Dusan’s leg throbbed at the thought. He didn’t like where this was going.

The door of Greenwood’s office creaked open with the ominous groan of a coffin lid, and Dusan was parked just inside the doorway, wheeled locked like shackles. Greenwood sat on the corner of his desk. “Thank you, agent Harmon.”

The man grunted and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Frank had been conspicuously absent from his desk outside. Dusan turned to Greenwood with a resolved look in his eyes. “I hope this means there’s good news.”

Greenwood’s smile was unnerving. “Oh, there absolutely is good news! I’m glad you asked.” He leaned his hands on his knees, giving the impression that he was talking to a child. Dusan hated it. “Dedsec is just as predictable as I had expected. I have a plan in the works now to get their attention and potentially cripple their forces. I thought you’d enjoy the update.”

Dusan arched a brow at him. “You talk about them like they’re an army.”

“Are they not? Dozens of hackers with their claws in who knows what trying to hurt hundreds of innocent people?”

Dusan snorted. “Funny, because that kind of sounded a lot like your plan. But perhaps I’m just getting my wires crossed.”

The corner of Greenwood’s grin twitched. “You’re being awfully crass today, Nemec. And here I only wanted to bring you the upside to you losing our leverage.”

Dusan could have laughed. “You really think I’m an idiot, Harold? I didn’t get as far as I did against Dedsec by dumb luck. I knew what I was doing. I calculated every move my enemy was going to make before I even took a step. I don’t eve think you’ve been counting your steps. You really ought to start.”

“Oh? And what are you calculating now?” Greenwood asked.

Dusan leaned back, but he planted his good foot on the ground. “Well for starters, this isn’t your business office; It’s your secondary office. This isn’t the right office for good news. Frank wasn’t outside, your lackey didn’t seem to care about my personal effects in my room, and tell me Greenwood, why hasn’t he left the hall? He had very heavy footsteps, he hasn’t walked away yet. I would have heard.” He tilted his head. “So why don’t you tell me why you really brought me down here?”

Greenwood’s grin never left his face, but something in his eyes shifted and turned it into a twisted smile of a sadist. “6. 1. 7. 2.” Dusan swallowed. “2. 1. 9.” He drew the numbers out so he was sure Dusan could hear them. “Do you have any idea what these numbers are? And don’t lie to me, Nemec. Because as of right now, I am no longer a patient man. Choose your next words _very wisely._ ”

Dusan inhaled slowly through his nose and dropped his eyes shut. When they opened again, they stared straight into Greenwood’s maniacal gaze. “I choose all my words carefully, Greenwood. I’m thorough like that. As for those numbers-” His resolve strengthened, and adrenaline fueled him, “-I’m pretty sure they’re my way of fucking up your plans.”

His foot dug into the carpet, and he launched to stand, swing his fist toward Greenwood’s face. Greenwood barely caught it, perhaps not expecting him to feel well enough to fight, and threw him toward the wall. Dusan caught himself before he collided with it and ducked in time to miss catching Greenwood’s fist to the back of his head. He threw himself backward into Greenwood and knocked them both over the desk. Greenwood lost his grip on Dusan for a second too long, and Dusan grabbed the nearest object- a stapler- and slammed it into Greenwood’s face, earning a furious cry of pain.

Greenwood rushed Dusan again before he could recover and grabbed the side of his head, smacking it down against the wood of the desk. Dazed, Dusan hit the ground, but even woozy, he still swung his good leg into the back of Greenwood’s knees, bringing him closer to his level. He threw his fist out and caught Greenwood in the mouth, sending him to the floor. Dusan tried to stand but his wounded leg pulsed with pain and slowed him down.

Greenwood stood in time to catch that leg and dig his thumb into Dusan’s bandages through the pants he was wearing. Dusan had only enough time to roar in agony before Greenwood was standing at his full height and grabbing Dusan’s arm, twisting it behind his back and slamming him down against the desk. Dusan gasped for his breath, breathing out spittle from his exertion and the pain. Behind him, with Dusan’s arm firmly held in place, Greenwood lifted his other hand pull out the staple that had planted itself in his cheek with barely a wince. He then brought his hand to the corner of his mouth to wipe away a trail of blood that had dribbled to his chin. He sneered at it and wiped his hand off of Dusan’s sleeve.

“You fight well, Nemec!” He mocked. “I’d have half a mind to invite you to join the CIA. It’s a shame you’ve chosen to side with terrorists.” He knocked once on the desk surface, and Harmon opened the door again, walking inside. “Hello again. If you don’t mind, I’m going to get Mr. Nemec here settled back into his chair. I’d like you and Harris to show him to his new living arrangements when I’m done. Get Harris for me, and I’ll meet you outisde, hm?”

The bulky man nodded and left the room again. Dusan huffed as the strain on his arm tightened. “Can’t even off me yourself…? Seems like a cowardly way to s-solve your problems,” He managed.

Greenwood pushed the arm further up until Dusan could feel his tendons stretching and his bones staving off breaking. “Oh, come now. You should know, just because I’m not the one behind the barrel doesn’t mean I’m not the responsible party.” He yanked his head off the desk by the hair. “I’m just going to see if I can’t take down a few Dedsec members with you is all. As many birds as I can get with one stone, you see.”

Dusan fought cries against the pain. “ _F-Fuck you,_ Greenwood…”

"Hm. That sounds familiar." Greenwood pulled Dusan’s head further back and slammed him down once more, knocking him out cold. He took a deep breath and slid off of the unconscious man, letting go of his arm and straightening his tie. He shifted an arm under Dusan and hefted him away from the desk and back into the chair. Dusan ragdolled into the chair, and Greenwood hefted his feet into the stirrups. “You aren’t awake for this,” He tugged Dusan’s shirt straight. “But I’m a busy man, and you’ve become too much of a liability.” The door opened to reveal Harmon and Harris. Greenwood grinned. “Sorry, Dusan.”

~

Marcus had left headquarters to find Wrench. He had a hunch he knew where he would be, but he had no proof Wrench would stay there. Still, as he rolled up to the garage, his relief grew as he saw a motorcycle parked near the wall.

Marcus used the door, letting it swing locked behind him. Wrench’s garage was scary to see so empty, but he knew all of his stuff was safe within the hacker spaces. Still, this was Wrench’s space, and if he’d come here to calm down, Marcus couldn’t imagine the sight of his space being barren would actually help.

As he looked around the open space for Wrench, a sigh caught his attention, and he looked up to find a pair of ratty shoes dangling from the walkway above. He gave them a smirk and followed the legs up to their owner.

Wrench was still wearing the motorcycle helmet, and he was leaning it against the railing. His hand lay in his lap, and he was lax enough that he looked like a doll.

Marcus climbed his way up and sat next to him, leaning his arms on the railing. “It’s all safe, you know,” He promised. “We emptied this place out after you got taken just in case anybody found this place. Just a precaution. When this is all over, we’ll be putting it back.”

“I figured.” Wrench’s response was short.

Marcus nodded and went back to staring out at the space. He let the silence settle on the for a while. He didn’t want to rush Wrench into talking about anything. But he also couldn’t just let him stew in whatever emotion he was in right now. “I’m so-”

He nearly ate Wrench’s hand as it flew up to cover his mouth. “If you apologise, I swear to god I will punch you in the face.”

Marcus dared a glanced and laughed. “What the hell am I supposed to say then?”

“Be mad at me for putting you on the spot like that? Tell me I’m being unreasonable and that I’m a jerk for yelling at you about stuff you didn’t know?” Wrench shrugged. “Take your pick.”

Marcus caught Wrench’s hand as he dropped it and gave it a squeeze. “How about I still apologise?”

Wrench’s helmet face the ground. “For what?”

“For not tellin’ you about Dusan earlier. For not asking you about what the hell you went through in your head. I thought it’d be better if you didn’t have to talk about it, but now it’s all just sitting in there, festering in there until something reminds you and dredges it all up again.” Marcus sighed. “What’s happening now is important, and it needs our attention. But you’re important too. And I’m not about to neglect you just because we got shit goin’ on.”

Wrench stayed quiet. He took in Marcus’ words and let his helmeted head rest on the railing again. He couldn’t bring himself to speak until Marcus laid another hand on his back. He took a breath. “So did Dusan actually help…?”

Marcus sighed. He was hoping Wrench would open up again, but he wasn’t going to push it. “…We think he did. We talked it over, and then we called Suzanne again to get her side. She said that the torture and Dusan’s involvement in it were all ‘suggestions’ from Greenwood. Apparently your mind kept latching onto Dusan as the villain, so he increased Dusan’s presence in the plot to keep you distracted.” He let his arm settle over Wrench’s shoulders in case he needed the support. “She said Dusan was getting tired of the whole mess by the end of it too. The numbers didn’t start showing up in the notes until the last few times. Then the whole lettin’ us go thing happened.”

“So the general consensus is that Dusan is working against Greenwood now…?” Wrench asked.

Marcus nodded. “Yeah. In case you ever got out, he stuck those numbers there to give us a head start. All the files we got are clean, and things match up with information from other sources.”

Wrench might have smiled, but Marcus couldn’t tell. Wrench’s head remained on the railing. His shoulders drooped beneath Marcus’ arm. “…Sorry I flipped my shit then.”

“Hey, hey. If either of us ain’t supposed to be apologising, it’s you.” Marcus yanked him away from the railing and tugged the helmeted head under his chin, an easy manoeuver with Wrench being so hunched over. “You went through hell almost thirty fuckin’ times, and I’m sorry I didn’t stop to consider that before I ran my mouth.”

Wrench shuffled a bit in his hold and pulled one leg up to face Marcus more. His arms wound around Marcus’ waist, and Marcus let them. Wrench could pull any comfort he needed from him right now, and he wouldn’t object. Wrench sniffled. “Can we go blow up Greenwood now…?”

Marcus laughed. “We’ll get there when we get there. We still gotta stop his evil plan first.”

“ _Marcus, how’s our boy?_ ” Sitara asked in his ear.

Marcus smiled. “I found him. He’s fine.”

Wrench lifted his head and pulled away from the hold. “You got the guys on?”

“‘Course I do.”

Wrench audibly winced and pulled out his phone, connecting to the feed. “Uh, hey guys. Today’s emotional breakdown’s pretty much over.”

“ _Yeah, next time keep your damn comm on,_ ” Sitara warned. “ _Anyway, are you okay to come home? We may have an update._ ”

Wrench grunted and stood up, dusting himself off. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Marcus followed suit. “What’s going on?”

“ _Josh’s facial rec found Dusan leaving the CIA compound, but it don’t look good,_ ” Ray said.

“ _It’s just a few frames of him, but it looks like he’s unconscious,_ ” Josh added. “ _They loaded him into a car, but we’re struggling to track where it went from there._ ”

Wrench groaned and dropped his head back. “Well, there go any of my left over doubts.” He moved to hop over the railing and jumped down to the floor. “Come on, M, let’s go save his ass. I can’t think of better vengeance against Dusan than making him owe a debt to Dedsec, and I’m not missing this opportunity to rub it in his face.”

Marcus snickered and climbed down after him.

Before they reached the door, Wrench tugged the helmet off and turned around, tossing his arms around Marcus’ shoulders and burying his face in his neck. Marcus stumbled, but caught them both and held on tight to his thin friend. He pulled Wrench deeper into the hold and closed his eyes, leaning his cheek against Wrench’s blond hair. Wrench inhaled deeply and let it out as a sigh. “Thanks for coming for me, M…”

Marcus smiled and reached to cup the back of his head. “I got you, Wrench. Every time.”

Wrench pressed himself closer. “…I know you do.”

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update because I was all "I'm gonna update at exactly midnight!" and then my trigger finger happened. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ


	24. Tumbling Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely finished like 98% of this chapter on Monday and was all "Sweet, maybe I'll finish the last bit tomorrow and have lots of spare time for the rest of the week to get ahead!"
> 
> Here I am cramming it in in the last few hours of Saturday.
> 
> 'Eeeeey
> 
> Why am I like this ಥ_ಥ

“They took him to a condemned building.” Josh pointed to the map he’d brought up on the monitors when Marcus and Wrench arrived. “Here. By the salt flats.”

Ray gave the news a bitter laugh. “Condemned buildings and CIA don’t mix one bit. We’ll be lucky if we make it to Dusan before they’ve made him eat a bullet..”

Sitara walked her laptop over. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that. I don’t think that’s the way they want him to go.” She set it down in front of everyone. “That building is the old offices for Fielding Pharma. They moved uptown three months ago, and demolition was supposed to happen last month, but,” she gestured around, “All this bullshit happened and it got postponed. Guess where they moved the due date?”

Marcus sat in a chair. “Oh, I’m guessing sometime today.”

“Four hours from now, today.” Sitara poked her screen. “Tight window.”

“Plenty of time. It doesn’t take long to get to the salt flats from here.”

Wrench sat against the table. “Yeah, but that time is seriously drawn out if they left him with any armed guards. With a guy like Greenwood, he probably did, just in case.”

“Then we should get there early and utilise all that time.” Marcus stretched his neck out and moved to stand up. “I can get there in twenty-”

He was shoved back into the chair. Sitara’s hand was planted firmly on his right shoulder, and Wrench was on his left. He sighed. “Can I help you two?”

“Yeah, you can help by not injuring yourself more.” SItara tightened her grip. “You’ve been shot, you dingus.”

“And you’re the man with the plan, so we’re not about to send you head first into what’s probably a trap,” Wrench added, patting his arm. “So I’m going.”

Sitara turned her disbelief to Wrench. “Uh, not alone you’re not.”

Marcus held up his hands. “Whoa, _whoa_. Hold on-”

“No ‘hold on’, we’re going. You said it yourself, we should utilise the time.” Sitara beamed at him. “If you try to follow us, I’m gonna let Ray strap you down to the chair.”

Josh rubbed at his arm. “Should I go?”

Sitara shook her head. “No, we’re gonna need that brain of yours later.” She made her way to him and scruffed at the top of his head to make her point. “That, and you don’t do well in gun battles.”

“...I don’t like that this sounds like a conversation about who’s the most expendable…” Josh muttered, looking at the floor. “Neither of you are… None of us are.” His hand came up and caught the hem of Sitara’s sweater.

Sitara’s face softened. She tapped his shoulder, which she’d started doing to warn him that she was going for a hug, and pulled him into her arms. “Nobody else. But somebody has to do something, and we may as well keep our key players out of the field until we need them.”

“Yeah, we all know if we were going by most expendable, we’d make Ray go,” Wrench quipped.

“‘Ey!” Ray chucked the spoon from his long empty cereal bowl at him.

Wrench laughed, and it was clear neither of them meant it. Wrench didn’t want the mood to be this dark, and neither did Ray.

Josh ignored them. “I don’t like it,” He said into SItara’s shoulder, but he hugged back anyway.

“Neither do we,” Sitara admitted.

Wrench squeezed Marcus’ arm and stood away from the table. “All right. Dusan’s not gonna save himself. And we’re not gonna die. I have spite keeping my ass alive at this point.”

Sitara let go of Josh and rubbed his shoulders. “We’ll be fine. I’ll go get a car.” She walked away from him once she was satisfied he would be all right. One her way past the lockers, she picked up a gun they’d stashed in one and then made her way to the stairs. There were no goodbyes; She held hope that she’d be back.

Wrench felt that sentiment fiercely. He gave Marcus and cursory glance and smiled his best ‘everything will be okay’ smile and headed for the stairs as well.

“Wrench, hey!”

He was halfway up when Marcus was behind him again. “What?”

Marcus reached behind him and pulled his gun out, holding it handle first to Wrench. “I know how you feel about them right now, but… Ya know. Precaution and shit.”

Wrench eyed the gun and inhaled slowly through his nose. Marcus had a point; he shouldn’t go into this unarmed. But he’d be alone with one of their friends. Still he reached his hand out, clasping it over the top of the gun, careful for his fingers to be nowhere near the trigger. He let go of a breath that caught in his throat and pushed it quickly into his waistband behind his back. “Thanks, M…” He turned to continue up the stairs.

Marcus caught his hand before he reached the next step. “Wait, can-…” Marcus sounded scared. “Can we talk for a sec before you go?”

This was a goodbye. And by the way Marcus was holding onto his hand, it seemed like he might have had something else on his mind. It made Wrench’s insides seize in terror. He pulled away. “We can talk when I get back, M, we’re kinda in a hurry.” He backpeddled up the stairs for a good few steps before turning away and opening the door.

He couldn’t see Marcus’ face fall, but he could hear it. “Oh-… Okay. When you get back, then.” He heard Marcus step back down the stairs. “So you’d better come back this time.”

Wrench didn’t respond as Marcus rounded the corner. He squeezed his eyes shut and darted out of the door as soon as it opened.

He wanted it. He wanted it so badly, but if this was what he thought, his head wouldn’t let him trust it to be true. He marched past the gamers, though they were sparse today, and walked outside, sliding into the passenger seat of the car Sitara had idling outside. He sank in the seat and tugged his hood over his eyes.

Sitara pulled away from the shop and arched a brow at him. “You were either faking it really hard in there or something happened,” She said, glancing at him. “Did something happen?”

“ _No,_ ” Wrench said, too quickly and too sharp.

Sitara shook her head and sighed. “Okay sure. Nothing happened.” She turned off the radio and connected her phone to it. A thrum of heavy guitar filled the silence, and Wrench’s tight shoulders slowly loosened. “Wind down, Wrench. We’ll be there soon.”

Wrench sighed and settled into the angry music. He stared out the window and tried to focus on the buildings speeding by and not his misery or the gun pressing its imprint into his back. He felt no pull to grab the gun, which put him a little bit at ease, but it wasn’t by much.

What if he did die on this mission? He really didn’t want to die saving Dusan Nemec of people, now did he want to die at all, but the further and further he got from headquarters, the more he hated himself for not letting Marcus say what he had to say.

“Jesus Christ, Wrench, can you maybe not look like we’re driving to our deaths please?” Sitara said over the music.

Wrench flinched and turned back to Sitara. “Sorry, sorry! _God_ I miss my fucking mask.”

Sitara smirked at him. “Don’t be in such a rush to wear it again, this is the most I’ve ever seen your beautiful face, and I wanna take it in for as long as I can.”

He laughed. “Yeah, forgive me if I don’t trust an artist to be objective when it comes to beauty standards.”

Sitara gave an appalled gasp. “I am completely objective. My eye for beauty is sharper than anybody’s. One day, we’ll pull you out of that pessimistic canyon you’re in, I swear.”

Wrench snorted and turned back to the window. “Nah… Don’t come down here for me, I’m not worth it.”

Sitara sighed and flicked Wrench in the ear through his hood. “You’re worth it, Wrench. We’d throw ourselves into any pit of hell to get you out, and don’t you ever doubt that.” She jabbed him in the side, causing him to shriek and arch away. “I’m gonna do that every time you talk shit about yourself.”

Wrench pressed himself against the door “Um, excuse me!? I did not consent to this cognitive behavioral therapy! You’re a horrible shrink, you’re fired!”

“Tough shit, you’re stuck with me.” She jabbed him again, and her grin grew evil. “And I’m telling Marcus your ticklish when we get back.”

Wrench’s face filled with false horror. “You wouldn’t _dare_.”

“Oh I absolutely would.”

The tension dissolved in laughter, and they fell into a comfortable silence. Then Wrench glanced at the radio. “…Is this a heavy metal version of that fucking Milkshake song?”

Sitara cackled. “So it is. Don’t look at me, I just picked a metal list and hit play.”

Wrench laughed again. “Yeah, you’re definitely fired.”

~

They kept the car far out of view of the building as they connected with HQ to check in. Wrench ran a search for feeds and found them all over the building. “This place is wired for sound.”

“ _Yeah, almost everywhere but an office on the second floor,_ ” Marcus said. “ _Three guesses where our target probably is._ ”

“The belly of the beast,” Wrench said, ominously.

“ _It was the director’s office. A lot of higher ups don’t like their offices to be under any surveillance, and many security systems will comply just because they feel all of the security in the rest of the building will suffice._ ” Josh paused. “ _That makes me a little uneasy, actually._ ”

“ _‘Course it does. That means these guys can do whatever they want with your information,_ ” Ray added. “ _How much you wanna bet Dusan’s office at Blume didn’t have any damn cameras?_ ”

Sitara gave a bitter snicker. “And now they want him to die in an office with no cameras. If he wasn’t top of my shit list, I’d give Greenwood points for the karmic justice.”

Wrench flipped through every feed he found and pursed his lips. “I don’t see anybody…”

Sitara glanced over his shoulder. “That doesn’t leave trouble many places to hide.” She pulled out her phone. “Josh, can you send me a blueprint of the building?” Her phone chimed in seconds. “Thanks.” She pulled the blueprint open. “I think it’s our best bet to take the fastest route to that office.”

“What if Dusan’s not there?” Wrench asked.

“Then we’ll check the cameras against the blueprint for any blind spots we may have missed. We’ll find him wherever he is, and we’ll bounce.”

Wrench sucked in a nervous breath. “Okay, but… Look, last time I went into a building I thought was empty-”

“You were alone, and you didn’t have your guardian angels with you.” She wiggled her phone at him. “This time, you have me, you have more information, and Marcus and Josh are keeping an eye.”

“ _I’ve set the cameras on a loop,_ ” said Josh. “ _Nobody checking the feeds will see you but us._ ”

Wrench let the breath go in an equally shaky sigh. “Yeah, this just keeps getting more and more familiar.”

They made their way up slight hill alongside the long driveway, staying in the trees to remain hidden just in case. Wrench led the way, wanting to be the first one to take a bullet in case they missed a sniper. As they reached the mid-morning shade of the building, Sitara planted a hand on his shoulder to stop his trek. “Hang on.”

Wrench stiffened. “What? You see something?”

She rounded him and put her hands on either side of his face. “Just… lemme look at you a minute.” She tugged his head a little lower and shoved the hood back enough to see his whole face unhindered. Wrench immediately felt scrutinised and exposed, but he shoved that feeling away, letting Sitara take what she needed. His eyes faced the ground.

Sitara’s hands did a slow dance over his face, tracing his cheekbones back to his ears and down to his jawline. She brushed back his fringe to reveal more of the birthmark and gave him a soft smile. “Look at you…”

The corner of Wrench’s mouth barely flinched into the tiniest of smiles. “Not much to look at.” He finally looked her in the eye.

Sitara gave half a pout. “You’re plenty to look it.” She tugged him down and rested their foreheads together. Wrench shut his eyes and let her breathe. After a few seconds, her hands gripped the side of his head a little tighter. “We come out of there _together_. You hear me, Wrench?”

Wrench hummed in agreement. “Loud and clear, boss lady.”

Sitara sighed and wrenched herself away. She made for a busted out window on the side of the building. “Keep an eye out for traps. Trip wires, laser security, anything that’s hard to see from a camera feed.”

“You are preaching to the paranoia choir, Sitara.” Wrench said, hushed as he climbed in after her.

The halls were well lit from the sun alone. All of the lights were busted or off, the electricity having long since been cut, and the rooms were barren of anything that marked this place as as office building. There was the occasional scrap of paper here and there, or wires that had been ripped from the ceiling. As they approached the stairwell, there was a lone office chair sitting tipped over at the end of the path. If Wrench had been in a lighter mood and a better mental state, he might have righted it just to ride it down the hallway.

Sitara opened the door to the stairwell and drew her gun. “All right. We move slow.”

Wrench eyed her gun and swallowed his nerves, reaching back to take the one Marcus had given him. He held it at the ready, but kept it point at the ground, afraid what might happen if he lifted it. “…Let me go first.”

~

Dusan woke with the worst headache he’d ever felt. The side of his head was sore to the touch, and his neck was stiff from the position he head had been resting. The grogginess left him slowly, and he sat up in his wheelchair. Where the hell was he?

There were no blinding office lights, but he was definitely in an empty office. Desks and other chairs were missing, and sockets were gouged from their casings and avulsed from the walls. The rug had been ripped out leaving only the cement beneath, and most of the tiles in the ceiling were missing. Wherever this was, it wasn’t in good shape.

He reached down to move the wheels of the chair, but his hands found the thin tires to be mangled. Some of the rubber was missing, and wires had been wrapped around and through each wheel. If he got this thing rolling, it would be ages from now. However, he wasn’t bound to the chair.

He gave a groan and looked at his leg with disdain. They hadn’t cleaned the wound while he was out, and he’d begun to bleed through his pants, the visible stain trailing down his knee. He huffed and inhaled, pulling in a deep breath and bracing his hands on the arms of the chair. He pushed himself to stand and cried out as his leg washed aflame. He leaned on his good leg for as long as he could manage, carefully putting more and more pressure on the bad one to get it used to it. He was alone, but there was no telling how long that would last.

He limped his way to the door and pressed his ear to it, listening for any signs of life outside of the room. The door lacked a knob, so he pressed his hands against it, and the door swung loose. The hinges remained, but the lock and the latch had been removed. He peered out into the hall, and it was empty. It was just as dilapidated as the office was. He hissed as his he leaned on the wounded leg again, taking a crumbling step forward. He leaned against the wall and held on tight to get his bearings.

If he ever saw Greenwood again, he’d tell him exactly where he could stick his missiles. But for now, he had to leave this place.

He limped down the hall, using the wall as a crutch whenever he needed it. He had to find the stairs. Any elevator wouldn’t work if the lack of lights told him anything, and jumping from a window was out of the question. Given the current state of his leg, a fall from the height could damage him further, and there were no trees to slow his fall.

He threw open door after door. Signs had been removed from the walls, so each room that wasn’t a stairwell made his frustration grow. There was an office, an empty supply closet, more empty offices, a break room- Dusan was growing desperate.

He moved toward a bend in the hall and came to a noisy halt just before the corner. He could hear someone walking through the broken plaster on the floor. Someone was coming. He backed away from the wall as a hand panic-searched for an open door to run through, but his feet caught some drywall on the floor. He tried to brace his balance on his bad leg, and it crumpled beneath him, sending him to the floor. The assailant rounded the corner with his gun drawn.

It was Wrench.

For half a second, Dusan felt relief. Wrench was okay, and if he was here, then they were paying attention. Greenwood’s plans were in jeopardy, and it was all a matter of time.

But Wrench’s gun didn’t lower. He watched the maskless Wrench drop a confused and exhausted gaze down, and Dusan realised what he was looking at; his injured leg. The same leg Marcus had shot in the simulation. Greenwood hadn’t just shot him to keep him from trying to leave. He’d done it to mess with Wrench. He held up his hand. “Wrench, e-easy… It’s not what you’re thinking.” He kicked himself back a good foot. Wrench still didn’t move. He seemed frozen. “This wasn’t you. This was Greenwood.” Wrench twitched, but his eyes settled into a new emotion- resolve. Dusan swallowed his nerves. “Wrench, listen to me… Wrench.”

Wrench straightened his aim. Dusan squeezed his eyes shut.

“ _Bang._ ” Dusan flinched and his eyes snapped open. He looked up at Wrench as the man lowered his gun. Wrench gave him the barest smirk. “ _Now_ we’re even.”

Dusan sighed and dropped his head. “Jesus Christ…”

Wrench rolled his eyes. “Suck it up, Douche-an, it’s not like you don’t deserve it.” He held his hand out to the fallen man. “Nice to know even _you_ get scared.”

Dusan shook his head and clapped his hand in Wrench’s. “Pardon me if I’m not the bravest man in the face of a gun and a man with a grudge.”

Wrench helped tug him to stand and patted his arm a bit too hard. “Yeah, be happy my grudge isn’t with you anymore.”

~

Wrench rounded the corner under Dusan’s arm, keeping him walking upright. Sitara was walking out of an office she’d been checking on her side of the hall. Wrench gestured to Dusan. “Guess what I found.”

Sitara put her fist on her hip, gun still in her free hand. “Oh wow. Looks like they don’t take out the trash around here.”

Dusan rolled his eyes. “Are we going to make quips or get out? They left me unguarded, and I’m not in a hurry to find out why.”

Sitara tucked up under his other side and she and Wrench walked him toward the stairs. Wrench kicked the door open. “Well, this building’s being demolished in a few hours. They’ve got the whole place sectioned off in a huge radius, so I’m pretty sure explosives are involved.”

Sitara beamed at him. “Greenwood was gonna blow you up. Welcome to the rebellion, Dusan.”

Dusan winced. “Seems cozy already.”

They made their way down the stairs carefully, making sure Dusan didn’t fall. It was a slow trek with him in tow, but at least they had their source. Dusan was questionable at best, but they knew he’d be out for his own vengeance now. Until all was said and done, they had an ally in the man.

Outside of the building, alarms blared. Sitara went rigid. “Hey! What the fuck is with a sirens, I thought we had a couple hours!?”

Josh responded first in a panic. “ _Y-You did! I’m checking with the construction company’s software now, nobody is even at the controls, but the signal is being tampered with!_ ”

“ _We’re trying to stop it, but get the fuck outta there!_ ” Ray ordered.

Wrench and Sitara picked up speed. They hobbled with their way down the long hall toward the far off exit, past offices with boarded up windows they couldn’t bust through. The sirens wailed louder.

“ _This code is too complicated! I can’t get ahead of it!_ ” Josh sounded desperate.

“Just relax and focus, Josh! You got this!” Wrench shouted.

“ _Just run, guys!_ ” Marcus begged.

The sirens stopped. The silence that fell over them settled like a thick paste in the air. Sitara halted. “We won’t make it. We won’t make it!” She tugged them toward the wall nearest to her and pounded her fist on it a few times. “This is a load bearing wall, go, go!” She dragged them foward and shoved Wrench and Dusan under a door frame. “Stay there!”

Wrench reached after Sitara as she booked it for the next doorway down and curled under it. Dusan grabbed Wrench’s head and shoved him back to the floor, covering him.

Wrench gave a desperate heave and curled his arms around his head.

He hadn’t said anything.

_He hadn’t let Marcus say anything._

He inhaled a sharp breath. “Marcus…?”

“ _Right here, Wrench._ ” Marcus’ voice was too shaky for Wrench’s liking.

Wrench squeezed his eyes shut. “I-”

The explosion was deafening. The silence that followed in the blackness of unconsciousness was even moreso.

~

All of their camera feeds at HQ went dead. The static filled them with grief and dread, and Marcus stared with wide and horrified eyes. “…Wrench…?” He swallowed to wet his throat. “Sitara?”

They received nothing in response.

Josh rocked forward in his seat, eyes shutting tightly as he leaned his head down and ducked it between his knees, curling his arms around his head. “…It wasn’t enough… I wasn’t enough…” He whispered. Ray stood up and threw his chair into a wall.

Marcus stared at the screens and willed them to give him pictures again. “Sitara? Wrench? Anybody!” His chest was tightening and his eyes were burning. “F-Fucking… say something, somebody come in!” His voice was growing desperate. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Ray lean against the wall and slide down, visibly giving up. Marcus throat begged to close on him. His fists trembled.

“ _Wrench!_ ”

~


	25. Eggshells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Changes have been happening at an alarming rate in my life, and apparently I don't know how to handle that. Too bad none of them are actually helpful. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
> 
> Anyway, here's the next chapter and thank you for your patience.
> 
> Also, if anyone is curious, I do have some faces for the major OCs I have in this. If I were to cast them, Greenwood would be played by William Fichtner, and Suzanne would be played by Gina Bellman. In case anybody wanted to see them better in their heads.

Greenwood’s office phone rang. He gave a pleasant hum and pressed the answer button. “Greenwood,” He said, almost musically.

“ _The building is down. We watched the entryways, no one left. Three targets eliminated. Nemec, Wrench, and the girl._ ”

Greenwood beamed. “Thank you, Harmon.” He hung up without another word and leaned back in his chair with a pleased sigh. He whistled a pleasant tune and waited for Agent Law to report in.

~

Agent Law left the hospital more antsy than she’d gone in. She had to take a cab back to her car, and she was thankful for the silence to sort out her thoughts.

Waking up with not something she’d expected to do after her run in with Dedsec. There had been a mine at her feet with a maniac at the switch. She should have been dead.

Yet here she was. Doctors looked her over and found her no worse for the wear; a small bump had formed on her head from where she fell, but beyond that, she was fine. Nothing was missing. She wasn’t injured. Paramedics had been there before she’d even come to, but there was no sign of who called them.

Had Dedsec called? It couldn’t have been anyone else.

Her conversation with Greenwood weighed heavily in her mind as well. He hadn’t given one thought to her safety, nor to Liling’s. All he seemed to care about was the burner phone and the mission. She searched through her things for him as the paramedics pleaded with her to come with them to the hospital. Somehow, despite being the cause of her pain, Dedsec had taken better care of her than her own boss.

Her thoughts were being pulled apart. Why had they let her live? She had their identities now, and in any other case, her seeing the face of an enemy would mean she knew too much; it was a death sentence.

Unless they weren’t the enemy.

The cabby dropped her off in the garage again, and she was standing before the door of her car. She wanted to ask them questions. She wanted to demand that proof they claimed they had, but it was too late now. She had her chance to believe them, and she blew it.

She shook her head and pulled her key out again, unlocking the door. It remained unlocked, and she pulled it open. She couldn’t bend to this. It must have been another plot. It had to be. She sat in her seat, and sighed, shutting and locking her doors.

She didn’t start the car. She sat in the garage for a while, gripping the wheel to try and centre herself. What was going on? What did Dedsec want with her? What did they want with Liling Mao?

“This is ridiculous…” She muttered, finally starting the car and pulling out of the spot. She had to change. She had to go to work. She had to be ready. She would be picking up Liling at the airport tomorrow; she couldn’t afford this distraction.

~

Wrench’s eyes opened to blue sky and dust. He was in pain, but it was more of a full body ache than anything that felt dangerous. There were definitely sharper aches along his body, where he was either bruised or scraped, but it was all a steady hum at the moment. His head pounded, and he gave a weak cough, gripping at the rubble beneath him.

_Rubble._

Wrench sat up straight. He was immediately struck with regret, hissing as his muscles protested their sudden use. He turned around wildly. At first, he saw only the wall they had hid beneath. Somehow, it was still standing, with walls and foundations of the upper floor braced against it and everywhere beneath him. The doorway was clearer than everything else, and the wall had held back most of the debris, creating a safe cove for whoever was hiding under the wall.

His stare flitted down the wall as movement caught his eye. Dusan was kneeling over concrete where Sitara had been hiding, pushing rocks and plaster out of the way. He glanced behind him and caught Wrench’s gaze. He coughed. “C-Can you walk? I need your help.”

Wrench didn’t waste any time. He stumbled his way over and began hefting away the rubble. “S-Sitara?” He tried, wedging his shoulder under a large piece and shoving it away. His chest was aching, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the cave in, or the pain of preparing to lose a friend. “Sitara fucking say something, please…!”

There was no answer but silence.

Then, there was a cough.

Wrench’s chest unwound. “Sitara! Sitara, are you okay?” Dusan helped him lift another piece of rubble and shove it away. Slowly, piece by piece, they cleared the doorway, and Sitara was seated there, breathing and trying to reorient herself. Wrench gave a desperate laugh. “Sitara!”

“Nng… Stop… Stop shouting…” She managed.

“Sorry, sorry.” Wrench moved to the rest of the debris.

Sitara waved a wobbly hand at him. “Not you.” She gestured to her ear. Her voice was gravely, like she still had dust in her throat. “G-God… yes, I’m fine Josh.”

Wrench reached for her arm. “You got the guys still?”

Sitara nodded and lifted her arm to him. “Yeah, you don’t?”

Wrench shook his head. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The screen was shattered, and the phone was unresponsive. “Looks like I’m gonna need an upgrade.”

Sitara snorted at him. “You and Marcus, I swear to god. Take better care of your hardware, damn.” Wrench laughed with her and tugged her arm to help her stand. “Y-Yeah, I’ve got Wrench. F-Fuck!” Dusan had tried to pull up her other arm, but she yanked it back and sat on the nearest debris she could land on. “Shit, shit, shit…”

Wrench’s hands hovered over her shoulders. “What? What happened?”

Sitara hissed as she tried to roll her shoulder. “I think it’s dislocated…”

Dusan sat nearby to get the weight off of his leg. He huffed and leaned on his knees. “I can put it back, but it’s not going to be pleasant.”

Sitara nodded. “I’ve fallen off enough buildings to know that, it’s fine…” She waved at Wrench. “Come here, take my comm.” She tugged it out of her ear and held it out to him. “Let Marcus hear your voice, dude,” She said, softly so the comm wouldn’t pick it up.

Wrench carefully took it from her and replaced his useless one. He took a nervous breath and forced a smile back into his voice. “…How are things on the home front?”

“ _I hope you’re countin’ your lucky stars, kid,_ ” Ray responded.

“All my damn stars are lucky.” Wrench glanced over at Dusan, who was hobbling to Sitara’s bad side and preparing to reset her arm. “Hey, reminder, if you hurt her, I can still shoot you.”

Dusan arched an eyebrow at him. “May as well shoot me now, then. This is going to hurt no matter what I do.”

Sitara rolled her eyes and narrowed them at Wrench. “At ease, Rambo. And you, don’t encourage him.” She eyed Dusan.

Dusan shook his head and found some amusement at least. He leaned Sitara forward and placed one hand at her elbow and the other at her shoulder. “Ready? Take a breath.”

Sitara nodded and inhaled. With a sharp shove, there was a pop, and Sitara gave a sharp roar of pain. Her good hand swung out and punched Dusan in the arm.

Dusan jerked back. “Fuck! You’re welcome!”

“Sorry, it was reflex!” Sitara hissed and held her arm. “God-… _dammit_ that hurt.”

Wrench snickered as Dusan nursed his newly bruised arm.

“ _...Wrench?_ ” It was Marcus.

Wrench’s throat was suddenly dry. “…Right-… right here, M.”

“ _You good…?_ ”

Wrench glanced down at himself. “Little banged up, but I’m pretty sure I’ve had worse. Remember when I crashed that golf cart a few months back? Yeah, this is uh… about that bad. Didn’t even break anything this time. I’m fine.” He swallowed. “I’m okay.”

There was silence. Wrench imagined him collapsing into a chair and running his hands over his face in relief. Marcus always carried so much stress that it was impossible to miss it when it left his shoulders. A deep sigh and a bitter chuckle followed. “ _You gotta stop doin’ this to me, man…_ ”

Wrench’s own bitter laugh followed. “Hey, at least you didn’t have to wait a month to find out I was alive.”

“ _That don’t help._ ”

Wrench bit his lip and walked back to Sitara’s side as she forced herself to stand. “All right. We need to leave. If this went off without the construction company’s consent, you know they’re about to come investigate, and we need to not be here when that happens,” She said. “Come on. If we’re lucky, the car’s still there.”

Wrench smiled after her and took the job and helping Dusan stand and hobble out of the wreckage of the building. Sitara seemed to be walking fine, but he was ready to crutch them both if she needed it. Wrench’s body was angry and on fire, bit it was a dull burn he’d be able to deal with later.

“Make sure to stay off that shoulder for a while,” Dusan warned, gesturing at Sitara’s side with his free hand.

Sitara smirked back at him. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Wrench shook his head. “We’ll be home soon, guys,” He directed back to Marcus and the others.

“ _Be careful,_ ” Marcus pleaded.

Wrench nodded to no one. “We will.”

~

At HQ, the rest of the crew deflated. Ray stayed where he was on the floor, and Marcus had camped in the nearest chair like his legs had given out. When correspondence stopped, Josh let his head drop to the table.

They had been so close to death. So close, and Josh would never have seen Sitara or Wrench again. And then he’d lose Marcus to revenge, and then he’d lose Ray to his demons, and he’d be alone.

All alone.

Completely and utterly alone.

Marcus seemed to notice his grief and lifted his head to him. “You okay, Josh?”

Josh audibly swallowed. How could he possibly explain what was going through his head to Marcus? It was an endless train of what-ifs and would-haves and almosts that tumbled down and down and down until he couldn’t see straight, and he’d follow the mental train of thought until it was over, if it even ended at all. Where could he start? He picked a loud thought and said it, hoping it would grow quiet in his head if it was outside of it- The last minute demand he’d heard from Sitara to the others seconds before the signal erupted- a demand he hadn’t had time to correct. “The load bearing wall wouldn’t have helped.”

Marcus looked confused. “What do you mean?”

Josh huffed and lifted his head, pulling his previous window open. As Marcus rose to see what was on it, Josh reviewed the schematics again for the placement of the explosives in the building. All of them were faded except for a set of three toward the centre of the building. They were still a bright yellow outline showing that they were ready to go whenever they received a signal. Marcus sat hard in the seat next to Josh. Josh continued. “If you’re trying to bring a building down, you go for the load bearing walls first. Otherwise you run the risk of the building falling outward rather than down.” He pointed at the screen. “I could only get ahead of a few of the explosives. I had to choose.”

Marcus grinned at him and threw an arm around his shoulders, hugging him under his arm. “And you did it, Josh. Look at that. You get them outta there alive.”

Josh buzzed with nerves rather than pride. He faced his keyboard. “Wrench got hurt.  Sitara got hurt… Sitara got hurt, and I wasn’t good enough to stop them all.”

“But she’s _alive._ ” He heard Ray force himself to stand again. He sat on Josh’s other side and crossed his arms on the table before endearing him with a soft smile. “They’re all alive. You were enough, Josh.”

Marcus’ comforting arm tightened. “You were plenty,” He said.

Josh squeezed his hands to fists over his keyboard to keep his fingers still. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, filling every second of it with a comfort he could feel. Ray’s presence, Marcus’ arm, Sitara’s voice over their station, Wrench’s jovial greeting, and the yellow outlines of the failed explosives. By the time he exhaled, his fingers were no longer twitching.

For now, things were okay again.

For now.

For now.

For now.

~

A young woman with a nametag that said ‘Marie’ leaned her elbows on the concierge desk of the shitty, dilapidated motel office, neck deep in her social media account. She listened to her favourite music station from a static-riddled radio with an antennae that just would not stay upright. She blindly pushed it back into a better position to receive the signal and went back to her cellphone.

She chewed her gum as she responded to a comment on her latest selfie, her long nails tapping at the screen with every letter. Who gave a shit if Miranda Wildes thought that teal wasn’t her colour? Miranda Wildes could suck her metaphorical dick for all Marie cared, and she would rock these teal nails until she got tired of it.

She heard the bell ring from the front door. “Welcome to Himes Motel, can I help you?” She said before she even looked up from her phone.

When she did, she stilled. Three people hobbled into the tiny lobby and dropped off a man with a man bun so dishevelled he may as well take it out into one of the plastic chairs. They were all bruised and bloody and covered in a layer of grey dust like they’d had to dig themselves out of… something. The other, scrawny-looking man headed straight for the water cooler they had for guests and filled a tiny paper cone for himself, downing it like his life depended on it.

Marie looked back up at the only girl as she approached the desk. “Hi, yes. We need to book a room for the next week for our friend over there,” She jerked her thumb toward Man Bun.

Marie shifted her eyes only to the man who was trying to settled comfortably in a seat she knew was absolutely not comfortable. She glanced back at the girl, who beamed at her despite the dust and scrapes and the growing bruise on her shoulder. She tentatively rang up a room for the requested days and stared at the woman from beneath concerned and incredulous and immaculately tweezed eyebrows. “…$262.15.” She managed.

Sitara nodded and pulled out a card, handing it to her. “Debit, please.”

Marie took the card and ran it, handing it back to her. Her other hand still gripped her phone like a lifeline.

A clattering noise startled all of them, and everyone turned to the hooded man by the water cooler, who’d managed to topple one of the plastic chairs over and into the tiny waste basket for used cups, knocking it over as well. He held his hands over the mess and glanced over at her. “Uh. I got it. My bad.” He knelt down and righted the chair, collecting the empty cups and putting them back in the small bin. Man Bun rolled his eyes.

The woman sighed and turned back to her to wait for the transaction to process. Marie stared her down with an arched eyebrow. It went through just fine, and a receipt began to print. Marie reached for it and handed it to her slowly. She then pushed a clipboard toward her. “Can I get a name for the room please?” She barely remembered her usual spiel; she’d had crazy looking guests before, but this was on some other level.

The woman winced. “So hey, uh,” She peered at her nametag. “Marie. About that.” She pulled up her phone and began tapping away at something. “How about… you just forget we were here?”

After a few seconds, the phone in Marie’s hand buzzed. If she wasn’t so attached to it, she might have dropped it, but she pulled it into view. It was a bank alert. She narrowed her eyes and opened it.

Two thousand dollars had been electronically transferred into her account. Her perfect eyebrows shot up. She looked up at the dusty woman, who smiled again.

Her phone was set on the desk, and she masterfully reached for the appropriate key without looking, holding it out to her. Marie gave her the brightest smile; her customer service best. The woman took the key from her, and Marie turned her attention to Man Bun. “Have a good stay Mr. Jones.” Marie tugged the clipboard back to her side and jotted down the fake name.

The woman nodded at her. “Thanks so much. _Love_ your fucking nails by the way.”

Marie twisted a lock of hair in her manicured fingers. “Oh, thank you!”

The beanpole helped Man Bun stand, and the three filed out of the lobby. Marie looked back down at her bank account and beamed. Then she looked back at her teal nails.

Yeah, Miranda could kiss her ass.

~

Wrench and Sitara returned to HQ hurt and tired, but they had succeeded in their mission and had the information to show for it. Dusan hadn’t been told where the next missile would be coming from, perhaps because he had already been suspect by the time the decision was made, but he did know where they could go to find out.

Greenwood, while he kept his own secrets well, kept his sources at a questionable distance. He bought their silence, and rose them to a position that was hard to reach, certainly, but their names bore none of that protection. They had one now; Zachary Morales. And if they had been anyone else, the name wold have meant nothing. It could have been another agent, or a coworker, or even the mail guy in the offices where Greenwood worked.

But they had Sitara.

And Sitara knew exactly who Zachary Morales was.

“Everybody out of the way, Sitara’s gonna kill a man,” Wrench called as Sitara marched down the stairs.

“You’re damn right I am.” She sat at the table and yanked her laptop over with a hiss of pain.

Ray appeared behind her and shut her laptop, camping the first aid kit in front of it. “You can kill a man later, when you’re not bleeding.”

Sitara stared with warning eyes at the closed laptop. “Did you just-”

“I did just.” Ray sat down beside her and began pulling supplies out. "This kit's gettin' some work, I'm gonna have to restock it soon."

Another laptop was moved beside Sitara's, and a cold pack was laid on her shoulder. Josh took the seat on her other side, opening his laptop. “Who are we looking for?” He had the a criminal database ready and waiting on his screen.

Sitara sighed and let Ray get to work. “Zachary Morales. 32, 5’8” with a face you wanna punch.”

Wrench had stood back by the stairs leaning against the wall. “I think you might need to narrow it down; I want to punch most people.”

Sitara hissed as Ray cleaned off her scrapes. Ray turned to Wrench. “Don’t get comfy over there, kid, you’re next when I’m done with her.”

Wrench winced. “That a threat?” He snickered.

They settled into a silence. It was one of ease, but barely, like a prey animal unaware of the lion over the next dune. They were getting closer and closer to the brink of war, and they were either going to stop it or be too late. Whether they would be dead or on the run if it happened was another matter entirely. In the silence, they could pretend it would go their way. It would be okay.

Wrench kept his position on the wall for a few more moments before he realised he didn’t see Marcus. His heart jumped into his throat as he became slowly aware of a presence just past the wall of the stairwell. He took a shaky step forward and peered around the wall.

Marcus was seated on the couch with his elbows on his knees. In his hands, he was holding Wrench’s mask. He was a mirror of the first time he’d returned the mask to him, and Wrench felt like he couldn’t breathe. They were supposed to talk now.

Marcus lifted the mask to Wrench without lifting his eyes. Wrench let it hang there for a minute before taking it and putting it in place as fast as he could. That way Marcus wouldn’t see the terror building in his eyes.

“Can we go somewhere?” Marcus asked, gaze still on the ground.

Wrench’s body wound tightly. His mask stayed blank. “I mean I gotta-… Ray’s gonna need to-”

“Go on, Wrench, just don’t be too long.” Ray waved him off. Wrench’s chest tightened.

Marcus stood up and rounded Wrench, tugging at his sleeve to lead him back up the stairs. Wrench’s feet felt like they were made of lead and he was wading through syrup but he followed. Marcus opened the door and led them out. He seemed to notice Wrench’s hesitation. They left the shop and moved into the colourful alley way next to it with Marcus leading Wrench by the hand.

Wrench’s hand felt like fire. His throat was tight and unyielding. His muscles didn’t want him to move. There was no one around besides them. They were it. They could talk here.

Wrench wanted to scream.

He stopped walking, the motion tugging his hand free from Marcus’ hold. Marcus turned and looked at him. “…Can you not act like I’m taking you to the firing squad please?”

Wrench wanted to say something, to respond, to crack a joke, anything. But his voice wasn’t strong enough to push past the fear gripping his throat closed. It felt like someone was trying to choke him. Was this another panic attack? It certainly felt like it.

Marcus’ face grew concerned, and all Wrench wanted to do was tell him that everything was fine. “Holy- Wrench are you good?” He reached for his shoulders.

Wrench jerked away and hit the wall, holding his hands up. “Don’t-” It was the only word that made it free.

Marcus took a step back. He looked shocked. Then he looked hurt. Wrench’s heart was shriveling in his chest. Marcus looked down. “Damn…” He gave a bitter laugh. “Look man, if I got the wrong idea-…” He sighed. “If you’re not into me, you can tell me, okay? Not gonna hurt my feelings.”

Oh god that wasn’t it. That wasn’t it at all. Wrench reached into his hood and gripped his hair, crouching down to lean on his knees. “God fucking _dammit,_ M. Don’t do this to me now, don’t fucking do this.”

Marcus looked confused. “What am I doing? If you need me to back off, I’ll back off.”

“ _That!_ ” Wrench snapped to standing again, gesturing angrily at him. “Being… _you,_ and perfect, and wonderful, and everything I want… at the worst possible time.”

The confusion in Marcus’ face grew. “…Wrench, what are you talking about?” There was a flicker of hope in Marcus’ eyes behind all the muddled thoughts. “Are you-…” He looked like he didn’t know how to word what he wanted to say. “Are you…?”

Wrench groaned in frustration and spun away from Marcus to keep from looking at that hope. “Yes! I’m into you, M! I’ve been into you for months! God _fucking-_ ” He had wandered toward the dumpster and kicked it with a roar. “Do you have any idea how disappointing it was to find out I _didn’t_ sleep with you at that party!?”

Marcus chased after him. “Wrench will you calm the fuck down?” He held his hands up to try and ease him, but he didn’t touch him. “If you’re into me, why are you freaking out?” That hope still hummed in his dark eyes.

“Because I can’t let it fucking happen, okay!?” Wrench turned to him finally. “Every time I was in there, I got you. Every time I was in there, they gave me exactly what I fucking wanted and then ripped it all away from me!” He watched realisation cross Marcus’ face. He was talking about the simulations.

Marcus dropped his hands in frustration. “You’re not in there anymore, Wrench.”

“I don’t _know_ that!” Wrench heaved a breath and clenched his fists. “My mind is barely hanging by a thread, and it is taking _all of it_ to keep myself here, and grounded, and… _sane._ ” He inhaled a sob. “You don’t know how hard this is because you ground me. You make it easier and better, but when you do this, it’s happening all over again. I’ll lose my shit, I’ll kill someone, I’ll try and hurt you-”

“You won’t.”

“You can’t promise me that!”

“I can.”

“I _can’t believe it!_ ” Wrench kicked the dumpster again and winced as his body reminded him that he’d almost been crushed by a building. He hissed and turned around, leaning against the dumpster and sliding down. “The more this is like those simulations, the harder it is to think… that this is happening. That it’s real. I want this, _fuck,_ I want it so bad, but I can’t. I’m so close to throwing myself into traffic to see if it all just starts over…”

Marcus took a step back. The hope in his eyes was smited, and the hurt settled there. “Don’t do that, man…” He sighed and pondered the ground. “I’ll back off. I’ll pretend this didn’t happen.” He leaned against the opposite wall. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m bringing all this up now.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Sorry I didn’t say anything sooner…”

Wrench gave the barest of sobs. He wanted to trust this reality. He wanted to trust Marcus, but he was terrified. He was cold, he was in pain, and Marcus was so far away across the alley. He wanted to curl up under Marcus’ jacket and feel safe again.

But he couldn’t.

Marcus sighed and pushed away from the wall. “…When Greenwood’s gone, I’m gonna ask you if you still want it,” He promised. Wrench’s breath hitched. “And if you’re still not sure, then I’ll wait. All o’ this is gonna be here when you’re ready for it.”

Wrench bit his lip. He nodded. “…’Kay.”

“Need help up?”

Wrench nodded again. Marcus approached and took his hand, pulling him carefully from the ground and letting go immediately. He looked away and walked back out of the alley. “Let’s go put this plan together.” He didn’t look at him. He didn’t let Wrench see the pain that he hadn’t kept from his voice, even though it was sincere and soft. Marcus was careful. He was gentle.

Eggshells.

Wrench’s chest felt empty.

~

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are super appreciated!


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